


Counting Stars

by Blackened_Wings



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Emotional Spock, Hurt Jim, Protective Bones, Protective Spock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-14 23:42:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 41,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4584660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackened_Wings/pseuds/Blackened_Wings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk and Bones are exploring what should be an uninhabited planet when they are suddenly lost to the Enterprise, leaving Spock in charge of getting them home. Be prepared for some solid whump.</p>
<p>"James Tiberius Kirk was well aware that sometimes he was a little too mouthy. He enjoyed the fact, even, most days. It kept people on their game, and generally it was humorous. </p>
<p>Today, however, he wasn't so happy with the fact."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

James Tiberius Kirk was well aware that sometimes he was a little too mouthy. He enjoyed the fact, even, most days. It kept people on their game, and generally it was humorous.

 

Today, however, he wasn't so happy with the fact.

 

It had started off as a routine exploratory mission in the far reaches of the universe, a tiny planet that, somehow, had inexplicably avoided notice. Part of that was it gave off very little sign of it's existence: no large life signs, no interesting features, nothing that would attract the attention of the Federation. But they'd stumbled upon it and had sent the Enterprise to check it out, since they were nearby anyway. Kirk hadn't wanted to accept the mission, worn out after running from the natives on a different planet that had been experiencing strange readings. Turned out, it was just the natives screwing with the technology, and they were none too appreciative to have the crew of the Enterprise trying to fix it. Bones had spent a lot of time healing them of various arrow and knife injuries when they'd been able to beam back up.

 

If he hadn't mouthed off to the Admiral about the Enterprise getting the boring jobs, he wouldn't be standing alone on what had appeared to be a deserted planet. He wouldn't be sludging through what appeared to be a river right out of hell. He could feel the native fish nipping at his legs as he walked, and mosquito-like insects were nipping at the rest of him. He groaned loudly, hoisting the pack he was carrying higher.

 

“You don't get to complain about this.” Bones' voice was filled with annoyance as he followed the captain. “You got us into this mess, dammit. You and your smart ass remarks.”

 

“Yeah yeah, I know.” Kirk rolled his eyes and continued, coming out of the river on the other side. Still nothing, it seemed. Just a wasteland, almost uninhabitable. There was no oxygen, the waters appeared to be the same consistency as blood, and it was damn cold. “But the Enterprise should be going on real missions, not just running around exploring planets. She's too good for this.”

 

“And what missions would you prefer? No, don't answer that.” Kirk glanced back at the doctor, grinning slightly as he used a finger to massage his temple. “You want dangerous missions with the potential to kill everyone on board, but I'm not sure I can handle any more stress.”

 

“What? We always come out alive.” Bones just gave him a look, and Kirk hastily amended, “That wasn't a mission, that was-”

 

“You died, and it was a mission. So don't tell me you always come out alive.”

 

“I'm alive now, aren't I?”

 

“And it's a miracle.” The mutter just made Kirk chuckle.

 

“All thanks to you, Bonesy.”

 

“Yeah, and you can stop with the compliments, too. You can't butter me up while we're wearing oxygen tanks and freezing our asses off.”

 

“You volunteered to come.”

 

“Only so I can keep you alive when you inevitably try to get yourself killed.”

 

Kirk let the conversation drop when he heard something. He stopped for a moment, frowning, straining his ears as a low hum grew louder.

 

“What is it?” Bones asked, watching as the captain went from fooling around to completely still and focused.

 

“Do you hear that?”

 

“Hear what?”

 

“That's a no.” He frowned as it steadily grew louder, increasing in pitch. Then it stopped abruptly, and that made his frown deepen.

 

“What do you hear?”

 

“Nevermind, let's just finish this and get back home.” He had a bad feeling, the kind he got when something he couldn't control was about to happen. And those were the worst kinds of things.

 

If Bones noticed that the captain was anxious, he didn't say anything. They continued in silence, Kirk keeping his ears open and hoping that nothing went wrong. He wanted the adventure, of course. He wanted the danger. But when he was exhausted and had only his medic for company, he'd rather it be a run of the mill mission so he could get home and sleep.

 

Jim stumbled as he heard the noise again, louder, screeching through his head. He fell to his knees as he covered his ears, yelling at Bones, demanding to know what was happening. Bones stared at him, frowning, straining his ears but not hearing anything.

 

He knelt next to his captain and put a hand on his shoulder as he pulled the tricorder out. Something was wrong with Jim, he was sure, and before he even started Kirk began gasping, struggling to pull in air.

 

“Come on, Jim, stay with me. It's just - “ Bones sighed as he got the readings. “It's another allergy. You're just having an allergic reaction, Jim, deep breaths.” He rummaged through his med bag and pulled out a Hypospray, specifically packed for just this reason; Jim was a fearless captain, but he was a fearless captain with a shit load of allergies.

 

He pressed the medicine into Jim's neck and gently rubbed his back until his breathing eased and slowed. “There you go, deep breaths.”

 

Kirk's hands hesitantly lowered from his ears as the noise faded, and he turned to look at Bones. “What-” He didn't get to ask the question that McCoy didn't have an answer for. His eyes closed quickly, and Bones barely had the chance to catch him before he fell completely unconscious.

 

Leonard 'Bones' McCoy frowned. He shouldn't have fainted. It was obvious that he would be tired, yes, but Kirk was stubborn, and it took much more than that to knock the captain out. The doctor quickly checked his pulse and breathing, and it was in doing so that he noticed the tiny dart in his neck. Immediately his pulse quickened as he looked around, attempting to find the enemies that apparently did exist on this planet.

 

“Shit.” He muttered, pulling his communicator out.

 

“McCoy to Enterprise. Get us out of here now.”

 

He didn't hear the answer before he felt the slight prick in his neck and felt it take instant effect in his system. He fell forward, landing heavily next to Kirk as consciousness left him.

 

-

 

S'chn T'gai Spock was always both secretly pleased and anxious when Captain Kirk put him in charge to go traipsing in potentially dangerous scenarios. Pleased, because he rarely got the opportunity to be in charge. He generally accompanied the captain on missions, because of his logic and ability to think quickly. It was a good balance for the captain's 'act first, think later' attitude. Anxious, because that meant he wasn't there to keep the captain from doing something potentially harmful to himself. But this was a simple mission, merely exploratory on a planet that had no signs of intelligent life. If the captain could stumble into danger on a mission such as this, he was looking for it, and there was nothing the first officer could do about it.

 

“Spock.” Nyota Uhura's voice was concerned, and Spock frowned slightly as he came to stand next to her at the communication's panel.

 

“What is it, Uhura?” He asked, his voice calm and controlled, exactly as his Vulcan self demanded. It wouldn't do to let his own concern leak into his words.

 

“Sir, I'm picking up communications from the surface.”

 

Spock's frown deepened. “What do they say?”

 

“That's just it, sir. I don't know. I've never heard the language before.”

 

That was something to be concerned about. Uhura was the most talented xenolinguistic expert anywhere, and if there was a language she didn't know... Spock had a bad feeling building up behind his calm demeanor, and it was all he could do not to demand the captain and CMO return immediately.

 

“Send a message to the captain to inform him of this development.” He commanded, returning to the captain's chair. He sat heavily, attempting to coax the feeling of dread to the back of his mind where he could ignore it in favor of clear, logical thinking. It was probably nothing, a reflection of communique from other ships farther out. They would have scanned signs of life, had there been a civilization that was advanced enough to have electronic communications that reached outside of the atmosphere.

 

“Spock-” Uhura didn't have a chance to warn of the impending attack before the entire ship rocked under the impact. The Vulcan didn't have a chance to brace himself, and he fell forward hard. He managed to stop himself from hitting the floor face first, but he landed quite heavily on his shoulder and knew there was substantial damage. However, he didn't have the time to get it healed at the present time.

 

“That was an attack from the surface!” Uhura's voice was frantic as she pulled herself back to her console and began checking screens and pressing buttons. Spock grunted as he pushed himself to his feet, making sure to keep his left shoulder still as he did so. Spock returned to his spot in the chair, attempting to maintain some sense of control even as the crew showed fear. He would lead them well in Jim's absence.

 

“Mr. Sulu, get us out of range of the weapon. Uhura, make contact with the captain and CMO. Mr. Scott, be prepared to beam them aboard the Enterprise as soon as their location is made known.”

 

A collection of affirmative responses followed his command, and he closed his eyes as he waited for further information. A forced calm settled over him.

 

“Out of range, sir.”

 

A long silence followed, punctuated only by Uhura's attempts to contact the ground team.

 

A crackle swept over the radio, and Spock felt relief flood through him at McCoy's voice. _“McCoy to Enterprise. Get us out of here now.”_

 

“Just give us a moment to get your location.” There was clear relief in Uhura's voice, and she tapped steadily on her panel. “We're having difficulty getting a reading- Doctor? Doctor?”

 

Spock's head turned toward her much too quickly, but the sound of her voice-

 

“Is there a problem?”

 

“I lost communication, and I can't- Spock, they're just gone.” The panic in her voice was creating a panic in the rest of the crew, and Spock wasn't sure how to stop it. How could he stop something that was happening inside himself?

 

“Mr. Scott, do you have a read on the captain?” He knew the answer before it came.

 

“I cannae find 'im, sir.”

 

There was a moment of silence in which every crew member on the deck accepted the fact that the captain and chief medical officer were now MIA.

 

“Keep scanning, both for the captain and for other information about the enemies we are facing.” With those words, he stood, heading toward the medbay. He knew he needed to have someone take a look at his shoulder, and he also couldn't stand to sit in the captain's chair anymore, not with the knowledge that he was missing. And from the way McCoy had sounded, it wasn't good.

 

It was illogical to assign phrases of that nature to the situation.

 

It didn't stop him from doing it.

 

He decidedly ignored the fact that the CMO was absent from the medical bay, allowing one of the lesser known assistants help him to relocate his shoulder. From there, he immediately went to his quarters, ignoring the protests that he should stay for a pain killer. The pain kept him on the edge, instead of letting him fall beyond.

 

Logic was lost as soon as the door closed behind him. He slid to the floor, his hands shaking, attempting to retain control of his emotions but failing to do so. On the missions that were supposed to be dangerous, he was prepared for this eventuality. He understood that Kirk – James – would probably find himself in trouble and they'd have to rescue him. But this was supposed to be a simple mission. An annoyance, of course, but simple and easy and _safe_.

 

He didn't know how long he spent on the floor, wishing he could regain control. It didn't matter. Soon he discovered it was late, and he should rest. He would be better able to retain composure if he was well rested, and he would have to be in control of himself if he was to rescue the captain. Again. So he went to his bed and lay down. It took some time, longer than usual, to find sleep, but when he did it was deep and dark and full of the worst possible outcomes.


	2. Chapter 2

Bones woke up with a heavy head and a vague recollection of what had happened. Vague, at best. Everything seemed a little fuzzy, and that wasn't improved when he opened his eyes to find his vision wasn't exactly clear either. He squinted and hoped that it would improve, that it was just the way he'd been laying and not aftereffects of whatever drug had been used to knock them out, but he didn't have high hopes.

He sat upright much too quickly when he realized he didn't hear the smartass comments from the Enterprise captain. His head throbbed from the rough reminder that yes, he had been drugged, and it was still in his system. So he was a little more careful when he began looking around the small space for Jim, taking in the details of the nondescript, cold dark red room. He assumed it was some type of native concrete, and desperately hoped there weren't any nasty side effects. He'd heard tell of some species that used radioactive elements in building because they were completely immune, and worse stories of men and women suffering through prolonged exposure.

There was no reason to think too much about it. Either it would happen, or it wouldn't. He wanted to get them out of this place no matter what the situation or elements they used in building. If this was an enemy of Starfleet, Kirk was most certainly in danger. He'd gained quite the reputation for himself, and that made him a perfect target for anyone attempting to strike a blow at the Federation.

If this was just a native people who didn't like intruders, they were still in danger. He wasn't sure why he bothered thinking through things. Clearly he was locked up, and that wasn't how one started friendly conversations.

When his head had stopped pounding, he slowly rose to his feet and took slow, careful steps toward what appeared to be the only opening in the cell. It was a huge door, much taller than the average in human terms, which either meant it was a scare tactic or this race actually was substantially taller than Kirk and Bones. That could go one of two ways, in regards to their escape plan: they would be able to slip into places and escape their captors, or they were hopelessly outmatched. Bones assumed the latter, even though he wanted to be an optimist. It was Kirk's job to counterbalance his realist tendencies.

He took several minutes to examine the door, hoping against hope that there was some way he could get it open, something that had been overlooked by the natives that he could take advantage of. But push, shove, and scrabble for hold as he might, there was no movement at all, no handle or crack he could use. And when he'd figured that out, he let himself start to pace. He assumed that it helped the thought process, because he'd seen so many of the commanding officers do so when they had a problem they had to face. But it didn't help the doctor.

“Damn it, tell me what's going on!” He yelled, his whole body tense as he stared at the door and waited for an answer. None was forthcoming. He paced a few more times, perhaps hoping the magic would start to work, before he sat back down and closed his eyes. No point wasting energy, he was going to need it. He just hoped that Jim was alright, wherever he was.

-

Kirk blinked several times, assuming his head was still swimming from the allergic reaction. He didn't remember what had happened after that, which was probably problematic, but he had bigger things to worry about at the moment.

Literally, bigger things. The man – he assumed man – was much the same anatomically as humans. The same basic structure, and apparently the same senses. The differences were in the length of the incredibly thin fingers, the size of the eyes, and the _height_. This guy had to be at least eight feet tall, and that was probably a little short of the truth.

The alien had been there when he'd woken, staring at him as if expecting him to jump up and do something interesting. And after Kirk had blinked fifty times to make sure it wasn't just the reaction getting to him, the stare remained.

He tried to hold off on the smart ass comments, but there was no stopping James Kirk when in an awkward, out-of-his-control situation. “I take it there's no complimentary breakfast, then.”

Apparently his speech scared the creature, because it backed away from the captain and his eyes, if it was possible, grew even wider.

“Listen, I'm all for the freaky stuff, but I usually need a date first-”

He stopped speaking when the alien suddenly and very quickly put his face next to Jim's, staring into the very blue eyes that Jim had been secretly proud of his whole life. Mostly because of their ability to pull in the women.

There was a series of clicks, and Jim groaned inwardly. Great. Another alien species that spoke entirely in a series of slightly different clicks. So there was absolutely no hope of communicating. How cliché. How utterly annoying. And how entirely pointless that made any attempt at trying to talk his way out.

“So. Can't tell me your evil plot then. Disappointing.”

After a few more moments of being entirely too close to the alien, because he backed up and looked at an alien almost identical except in eye color standing near the door. While the one standing closer than anyone should was wearing a plain black, one piece jumpsuit, the one by the door had what appeared to be a type of gray jacket fastened at the neck, with a pale blue jumpsuit beneath. The eye colors matched the clothes, and Jim wondered if that was something to do with why they wore the colors. Maybe the eye color changed dependent on the clothing or other surroundings. Now wasn't exactly the time to speculate, and he assumed Bones would be doing the same thing, much more successfully.

The two aliens got close, holding what appeared to be a tricorder between them and clicking at each other. Then the one in black returned to Kirk and what appeared to be a smile stretched his face. “We wouldn't tell you our 'evil plot' if we had one.” The voice was very deep, difficult to understand, and the shock of hearing it come so easily and clearly out of a mouth he had assumed couldn't form human language made it even more difficult. So it was a few seconds before he found his voice, and even then it wasn't the impressive speech the captain was used to giving.

“Uh... yeah, it's usually a dumb move.”

“Indeed.”

There was a moment of silence in which they stared at each other. Jim had no way of knowing what was going on in their heads, nor what they planned on doing.

“Where's McCoy?” He asked, finally breaking the silence when he knew he had to ask. He had to try. He doubted they would be forthcoming with the information, but if he didn't ask he would regret it.

He wasn't surprised when his question was met only with a blank look, no answer to be had. When he tried to clarify, recognition sparked behind the alien eyes before it was gone, and there was still the silence bursting with knowledge that Kirk wouldn't get to know.

They left without saying anymore, although Jim suspected that the guard had done a full body scan while he'd been demanding to know McCoy's location, and he didn't feel at all comfortable about that. But there was little he could do once the door at closed behind them, and truth be told, he wasn't sure he wanted to do anything. He still felt weak from the reaction he'd had, and the subsequent drug in his system hadn't helped him to recover at all. His body felt sluggish and less than peak condition, but he did his best not to let that show. Whatever was going to happen, he would be strong. That's what he'd always had to do, to be, and he wouldn't let a little kidnapping by aliens get to him.

The captain wasn't sure if it was hours or days when the door opened again.

-

McCoy had begun to wonder if they had forgotten about him. He had assumed he would be faced with his captors early, in the hopes that they could intimidate him or coerce him into giving them knowledge. He had been fully prepared to deny them if they caused him physical pain. He had been slightly less prepared to continue denying them if they caused Jim physical pain, but there was only so much he could watch his friend go through. He'd decided there was little he could do to make further preparation, and so he had allowed his mind to wander as he waited.

It was a long wait, and soon he was up and pacing again, despite his resolve to save his energy. He was starting to understand why pacing was such a common trait in commanding officers. He couldn't sit still and do nothing, not when someone could be in danger. Usually, he wasn't aware of the danger, at least in its totality, until he received patients, and by that point there was something he could do. And if there wasn't anything he could do, he at least could sit by and help whoever it was pass peacefully into whatever came after this life. There was a reason for him to be still, something for him to focus on that was real and concrete. This dealing with the abstract, with something that he couldn't deal with in a tangible way, was worse. There was a reason he'd never wanted his own vessel, why he'd chosen to go into and remain in medicine. This was just reinforcing that, but also reinforcing a policy he would put into place once they escaped this place: get hurt on a mission, and you'd best beam yourself back up to the ship to get medical attention, because Bones was never going on world again. This was not his job.

He sighed heavily. He knew that was a lie, but it made him feel a little better anyway, planning for a future that didn't involve rotting in a cell.

When he finally heard the door open, he pressed himself against the far corner so he would have more time to observe their captors and understand how best to get away from them. He was immediately disappointed when he learned that they really _were_ as tall as the door had suggested. He hadn't realized how much he was hoping for the intimidation technique, but he supposed that would be completely eliminated once they showed themselves.

He surveyed the gray skin, the large eyes of shades matching their uniforms, the height and the disproportionate fingers.

Nope, he'd never studied them in any of his courses or readings.

Fuck.

But he still did his best to learn what their weaknesses were, whether he would be able to use any of his expansive medical knowledge to incapacitate them in some way. He didn't come up with anything before he felt his upper arm wrapped in a vice grip and he was hauled out of the cell. The fact that he was digging his heals into the ground and struggling against the pull didn't seem to even mildly inconvenience them, and soon he gave up in the hopes that he wouldn't waste any more energy on the pointless struggle.

The hallway beyond his cell was the same dark red, the same hard material. He noticed several doors that were similar, but without windows he couldn't tell if anyone was being held in them. He also noted they were a fair number of them, and some had a decent amount of damage. He wondered if they often took captives. He was afraid to delve too deeply into why they required so many prisoners, and attempted to focus on the route they were taking. Perhaps it lead to an exit, or he would need to traverse it in the future.

There were many offshoots from this hallway, which appeared to be the main one. Bones stumbled to his knees as the alien stopped suddenly, raising a free hand and slowly sliding one finger down the middle of the door. Some kind of advanced technology that recognized his biology, or a simple mechanism that triggered through touch? He didn't have a chance to explore it further before he was tossed inside, and immediately he heard the relieved voice of his captain.

“Well, aren't you just a little ray of sunshine?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you've enjoyed this chapter! I've enjoyed writing it, which is a bit of a surprise; I was kind of afraid that it wouldn't hold my interest, just because the content is so different than what I usually write. Thank you for reading, feel free to comment if you have suggestions or small fixes.


	3. Chapter 3

When Spock left his quarters, he was the emotionless, logical Vulcan that he always attempted to be. It had taken him a good hour after waking to achieve this state, but it was for the better. He needed to be a Vulcan without the human emotion if he was to save his Captain. And the CMO. He felt a little bad that he had forgotten about the doctor, even if for only a second, but there was nothing for it. He had developed a close relationship with James Kirk, and Leonard McCoy was secondary.

He reached the bridge with several other members of the crew as the shift changed. Uhura was clearly upset, but she was doing her best to push it to the back of her mind. The others weren't as good at it as the communications officer, and it was obvious on their faces that their minds were in a different place. That wouldn't be useful in this situation, but he knew they had less control than he did. And right now, he wasn't even sure he had enough control.

“Mr Spock- Keptin – on board..” Chekov had difficulty referring to Spock as the captain, and always had. The Vulcan knew it was, in part, habit. But the main reason was the true captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise would always be Kirk, regardless of the situation he found himself in.

“Is there any communication from the planet?” He asked calmly, mildly proud that his voice sounded so disconnected and calm.

“No sir.” Uhura's voice was almost as smooth as Spock's, and he was proud of the woman. “But there was a message from Starfleet while you were away. They want to know our status.”

“Did you answer?”

“I thought it best for you to do so, sir.”

Spock nodded. “Put them onscreen. I'll convey the necessary information.”

Uhura did her job quickly and easily. Soon Spock was facing one of the admirals of the fleet. He knew he should know her name, but his brain wasn't quite ready to deal with any details yet. So he gave her an impersonal greeting and launched into a summary of the events that had occurred. Her face shifted from neutral to concerned, and Spock remotely answered her questions. He wouldn't remember what was said later, because, despite what he thought, control of his concerns was hard to achieve.

“You are to stand down until reinforcements arrive.”

“Admiral, there is no guarantee that the captain will be kept in good health until the reinforcements arrive. In fact, these situations demand the assumption that physical harm will be dealt, and it is our responsibility to keep our captain-”

“Spock, you will stand down.” Her voice was hard, demanding. Spock knew that Jim would have some retort for her, some 'smart ass' comment that would make her even angrier. But that wasn't something Spock had ever been able to pick up, so he simply nodded.

“I will stand down.”

“Good. I will speak with you when the ships are ready to leave. Be prepared for a long stay.”

Uhura shut the communication off before Spock could say anything, and he could feel the anger emanating off of her.

“We can't leave him-”

“We aren't, Lieutenant Commander. We are simply allowing Starfleet to believe we are. We cannot afford to leave the Captain and Dr. McCoy with them any longer than necessary. We will assemble a ground team and we will find the Captain, and I will deal with the consequences when our actions are discovered.”

There was silence for only a second on board before a mixture of cheering and shuffling to get prepared filled the ship.

-

“Jim, stay with me.” Bones muttered, nudging his friend's shoulder.

He was concerned. While the major effects of the allergic reaction had disappeared, he still seemed to be having difficulty. His pulse was erratic, and he would drift in and out of consciousness without any warning. He was beginning to think whatever had gotten him wasn't just an allergen, but some kind of native poison. And if that was the case, he was going to have real trouble. The damn aliens had taken all of his medical equipment, leaving him with only feeble attempts at keeping Jim awake and alive.

“Bones, the truth. What's going on?” His voice was quiet, weak, and it scared the doctor. He had seemed fine in the first moments he had been reunited with the captain, but immediately after that his weakness had been clear, and it had only gone downhill from there. They hadn't been checked up on in at least hours, although it was difficult to tell time without a time keeper of any sort. They wouldn't just leave Jim to die, would they? There had to be a reason they'd wanted to kidnap the two, otherwise they would have just killed the humans. Unless this poison was what they'd wanted to test. But there was no way they could have known Jim would get bitten or touched or whatever he had done.

“I'm not sure, kid. Just relax, but don't you dare fall asleep or I'll-”

“Kill me?”

It wasn't even funny, even though Jim smiled at him. He couldn't think like that, not in this situation, not when it was very possible that Kirk would actually die.

“Nah, just throttle you a little.”

Kirk chuckled quietly, leaning heavily against Bones. “That'll teach me.”

“You bet it will.”

When silence met his words, he muttered Kirk's name a few times before realizing the man had fallen asleep. With a heavy sigh, he shook his friend.

“Come on, kid, wake up. Can't have you sleeping on me now.” When he was met with no response, he shook a little harder, fear creeping up his spine. “James Tiberius Kirk, you wake up right now.” His accent grew stronger as he felt the fear seep into his words. “I'm warning you, you corn-fed hooligan, I'll slap you if you don't open those eyes.”

“Be nice.” It was hardly a whisper, but it was something.

“Being nice doesn't keep you alive.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Jim nodded. “Yeah.”

The way the captain said that, without his usual snark, worried Bones. But Kirk opened his eyes, his glazed blue eyes, and met the doctor's. There was hope, at least. He wasn't dead yet.

McCoy glared at the door that refused to budge, and that was the moment that it opened. For a moment, he was lost in a strange sense of confusion, as no one appeared. Was it activated by force of will?

He chased those silly thoughts out of his head, and soon after one of their captors appeared. He carried a strange object in his hands, something McCoy hadn't seen before. He stood, slowly, his eyes never leaving the aliens and his body placed firmly between them and his downed captain. Because dammit, they weren't going to hurt him anymore than they already had.

It turned out he didn't have a choice in the matter. It was easy enough for the alien, large as he was, to throw McCoy out of the way, where he hit the wall and lost his breath. Before he could regain himself, he was pressed firmly against the wall by a second alien's arm. His eyes were on Kirk in seconds, watching as the long fingers held the strange device to Kirk's neck. Kirk seemed to be out of it again, his eyes closed and his face blank. Could they be helping him? But he didn't believe it, not for a second, and he struggled against the hold.

“Damn it, why can't you just leave him alone?” His snarls didn't seem to have any effect on the aliens, but he continued nonetheless, completely helpless aside from his remarks. “He's already sick, can't you see that? He needs real medical attention, which he could get if you let us go back to our ship, you... you...” Insults failed him, an unusual occurrence, but he was preoccupied by the device at Kirk's neck, where a small needle was pricking the skin and something was probably being injected.

Kirk's eyes flew open as his body tensed, and for a moment nothing happened. Then the captain began seizing, and try though he might McCoy couldn't get away, couldn't help. So he watched helplessly as the Captain shook on the floor, and then blood was wetting the man's lips. Clearly he'd bitten something, and Bones could only hope he wouldn't choke on a piece of his tongue, that it had just been a cheek or a small cut.

When they'd apparently deemed the Captain had done himself enough damage, another injection. Kirk went absolutely still, lax, completely unconscious if not dead.

McCoy wasn't let go until one of the aliens had left the room, and the other was gone before he could do anything. Not that he would have. He rushed to Jim's side, checking for the pulse that had to be there, it had to be, he couldn't watch the captain die again. He wouldn't. He wouldn't be helpless again.

He was helpless. But that wasn't the point.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he found the pulse, even though it was weak and faint. It was there. A check of Kirk's mouth told him the bleeding was just in a cheek, and while it should have stitches there was little the doctor could do except lay the captain on his side so the man wouldn't choke on his own blood.

And he waited. There was nothing he could do, except check Jim's vitals every few minutes and pray that Spock had figured out where they were, and how to rescue them.

-

“Spock, don't be stupid.” Uhurha whispered, her voice begging to yell. But she was keeping careful control, because the rest of the crew as just around the corner and they shouldn't hear the fight.

“Lieutenant, you should watch the tone you take with your commanding officer.” His voice was void of emotion, and it seemed to make the lieutenant angrier.

“You're just going to get yourself killed! Do you know where they are? What we're facing? What if the same thing that's happened to them happens to you?”

“I suspect I will be relieved of my command, and Lieutenant Sulu would take command.”

“We know nothing about them, give it a little more time-”

“We have learned nothing new in the time we have taken already, and every second could be critical for the captain and Chief Medical Officer. It is not logical to wait any longer.”

“Logic is going to get you killed-”

“It would not be logical if death were the primary outcome. Lieutenant, I believe you have samples of the communication to interpret, which could be helpful in our understanding of the species. It would certainly do more good than arguing about the outcomes of an unknown scenario.”

She glared at him for a moment, and then huffed and left to do what he had suggested. He had expected that. She was angry, and scared, and unable to do anything to help. She would be alright, once she focused on what she was good at.

Spock took a deep breath. Jim would be alright, once Spock managed to find them. He had a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, which was easy enough to ignore when his orders weren't being questioned. Soon he regained control, and joined the ground team in the transporter room. They weren't crew members he was well acquainted with, because he wasn't sure he could spare them. The enterprise would be in danger so long as it remained close enough to the planet to beam them down, and he had no intentions of letting Kirk come back to a wounded ship.

Ensign Mia Carpenter was the only one Spock was acquainted with beyond name and position on the Enterprise, and that was only because she was also part of the Science team. She had volunteered to accompany Spock almost immediately, and as she was one of three who were responsible for her job, she was an easy choice. She had experience in hand to hand combat, was decent with her phaser, and was at times as good as a Vulcan in keeping a hold on her emotions. The other two were red shirts, usually deeply entrenched in engineering and generally unknown to others aboard the Enterprise. Lieutenant Seth Henley and another Ensign by the name of Jacinto Catlow. They talked quietly to each other, stopping only to give Spock the necessary greeting.

“Don't go gettin' yerself caught, ya hear? I cannae keep beamin' ye crazies down to a hostile planet.”

“You will not be beaming anyone else down, Scotty. If we do not return, you are to wait until the Federation sends reinforcements. Do not lose anymore from this crew, and do not allow the Enterprise to suffer any unnecessary, irreparable damage.”

“Don' ye think that's better fer Sulu tah hear?”

Spock didn't answer. He'd given Sulu the run down. He'd told him he was not to go after them, no matter what happened. But it wouldn't hurt to have another trusted crew member with the same orders.

Scotty beamed them down to the exact location that they'd lost track of McCoy and Kirk. Immediately Spock began searching the ground, noting the footprints in the marshy ground. There was the imprint where it appeared both the doctor and captain had fallen. Surrounding them were large footprints, much larger than any of a human. Clearly these were the aliens, and from the footprints they were very tall, with eight toes on each foot and no need for shoes or other foot protection.

“Ensign Carpenter, what do you make of this?” He asked, gesturing to the ground. She took one look and met his eyes.

“They were knocked out and taken, Lieutenant Commander. By aliens that clearly have the advantage in size.”

Spock nodded. “We will follow the path they have made for us. Set phasers to stun until we have more information.”

He received the confirmation he expected and began the trek to find the captain. They hadn't gotten far when they began to hear the sounds of conversation, the same language that Uhura had been unable to decipher. Phaser up, Spock crept carefully forward, his team following a few feet behind. A small hill was all the stood between Spock's team and the creatures who had presumably taken the captain and medical officer, and while he was sure his comrades were coursing with adrenaline, he felt remarkably cool and unconcerned. He had no choice but to get information on the captain from these creatures. He had no fear of them, no concern that they would catch or overwhelm him.

As he stepped out of his cover, his phaser held in front of him, he thought maybe Uhura had been right. Maybe he wasn't thinking logically. But it was too late as he got his first look at the aliens that had inhabited this planet under the Federation's radar for who knew how long.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for how long it's been since the last chapter was posted, but here's chapter three, and I'm actively working on 4, so hopefully it won't be so long!


	4. Chapter 4

Kirk was aware that his body was a complete mass of pain, but he had no idea why. He was aware that he was a prisoner somewhere, but he had no idea where. And he was aware that Bones was trying to get him to wake up, that his voice sounded different than usual, but he couldn't figure out how.

Mostly he was aware of the pain. It felt like his entire body had gone through a beating, that he would wake up to find bruises and cuts covering everything. And he wanted it to _stop_ , to let him be so he could do his job. As much as his crew would complain that he must _like_ the pain, for him to get injured so often, that wasn't true. He just liked the fight, the adrenaline rush that came with it, the feeling of victory when he won or successfully completed a difficult mission. This he did not like. This was not the product of a good fight, but of a stupid lack of understanding of his surroundings.

“Bones, stop.” It was difficult, to force the words over his tongue and past his teeth, and he was sure they were not so clear as he would like as a result. But it got the doctor's attention, and he stopped whatever muttering he was doing. Kirk forced one heavy eyelid up just enough to see the man, who appeared to have gained new worry lines across his face.

“Dammit Kirk, don't do that to me again.” There was deep relief in his voice, as there always was when the captain woke up from some injury or prolonged unconsciousness. Kirk's lips twitched in a small smile.

“I'll try not to.”

“How do you feel?”

“Like crap.”

“Kirk, you're going to have to help me out here, I need to know what they did to you.”

The captain frowned as he tried to take stock of his body. “Everything just... hurts.” he answered.

“What's the worst?”

“I... all of it.” After a moment, he added, “My chest feels like crap. Breathing hurts.”

“Probably some side effect of that injection. Dammit, I can't tell what's in your system without my equipment.”

“Then why are you bothering me? Let me sleep.”

“Don't you even think of it, Jim. I need you to stay awake. There's no telling what's going on, and I need you to tell me if anything changes.”

“Bones-”

“None of your lip this time, you... just don't.”

“It can't be that bad.”

When McCoy wouldn't meet his eye, wouldn't agree that it was fine or insult him for getting himself hurt again, Kirk realized maybe it could be that bad. Maybe it wasn't going to work itself out this time. But he wouldn't let himself think like that, because half the battle was in himself.

“I can't stop them, Jim. They come in here, with their foreign serums and god knows what else, and I can't stop them from hurting you. You're body's already in bad shape, much more abuse and I might not be able to bring you back.”

“You always bring me back.” He frowned as a breath was particularly painful, the air stabbing along his trachea both in and out. He kept breathing, because there wasn't much else he could do, but he took shallower breaths. He wouldn't die, if only because he wouldn't let Bones struggle through that.

“Yeah, well, you better hope that pointy-eared bastard finds us soon, or I might not be able to this time.”

-

Spock shot the first of the aliens, and while it stumbled slightly, it didn't go down. So he pulled the trigger again, and again, over and over until finally it stumbled, eventually falling to the ground and not moving. Spock didn't let his brain wonder at the creature, if he'd killed it, if the difference in anatomy would mean something different happened. He didn't let anything stop him from pointing his phaser at the second creature, who had raised his large hands with too-long fingers in the air in a universal gesture of surrender. One shot to the right shoulder, just to show this creature he wasn't to be trifled with, before he started walking forward. The alien fell to it's knees, keening in a low pitch that Spock barely heard. All rational thought and logic was abandoned as he decided he _would_ get the information he needed to find the captain. He _would_ get Jim back, and he would do it before any more could befall the man who had somehow become a friend.

Spock pulled his communicator out as he walked, phaser still pointing at the downed alien. “Spock to the Enterprise. Uhura, have you made any advances on interpreting the language?”

After a moment, Uhura's frazzled voice buzzed through the communicator, annoyance clear in her tone. “Of course not, you've hardly given me any time, and it's a completely new-”

Without waiting for her to finish, he shut off the communication. He had the information he needed. He'd have to get his message across by other means.

He'd placed a foot firmly on the alien's chest before he heard the sounds of his team behind him. They wouldn't have any idea what was going on, having never seen the Vulcan lose control of himself in this way. But he hadn't lost control. He was in perfect control. This was the best way to get to his friend. They would understand when he was successful.

He knelt, leaving his foot firmly placed, nearing the creature's face so he could speak quietly, command it's attention. He refused to think of this thing as a humanoid, he refused to think of it as anything less than filth. Not when they'd taken Jim.

In the back of his mind, he reeled at the approach he was taking. None of this was logical, it was emotion based and ruled, but that thought wouldn't make him stop. Not now.

“You have taken two of our crew captive. You will tell me where they are, or you will not live to see another day.”

The creature stared at him for a moment, humanoid eyes staring without comprehension, so Spock repeated himself, slowly. “What have you done with my crew members?” Even despite his break into emotion, he knew logically it made no sense to tell them they had the captain of one of the best starships in the galaxy. So Jim was demoted for a short time, until he could be found.

“Spock – Lieutenant Commander – he clearly doesn't understand English, and without a program to translate, we aren't likely to get any information-”

“Ensign, I did not ask for your opinion on this matter.” Spock's voice was surprisingly cold towards the woman who was only doing her job.

“Sir, she's right, you can't just-”

“You can't just-”

Spock's head swung around to stare at the creature beneath his shoe, sure it had just spoken, but it's eyes were just as huge and confused as moments before. After a long moment of silence, Spock rose slowly, removing his foot but never putting away the phaser.

It didn't seem to matter. Before he could fire a shot, the creature had lunged. Spock felt it grab his leg before he hit the ground, hard, and before he knew what was happening his teammates had shifted their phasers to kill and the creature lay dead on the ground.

Rage flooded through Spock before he had a chance to stop it, but before he could get up and take it out on his small crew he pushed it away. There was no point scaring or injuring those meant to protect his back.

He stood slowly, brushing the dust from his clothes, and without a word to his crew he began scouring the ground for clues. When he found the footprints, he followed them quickly, without a glance back to see if he was being followed. He could hear their clumsy footsteps, could practically feel their desperate hope to find the captain. He felt his anger with them lessen as he realized they were just as concerned for their captain as he was. They just weren't as well equipped to deal with the situation, hadn't learned better yet.

Emotions were running rampant in him, which meant perhaps he hadn't learned better, either.

They trekked forward, through the excessive cold. Spock wished he wasn't weighed down by the oxygen tank, even if it was very light weight and compact compared to those of the past. Every hindrance could potentially cost them the mission. Could cost them lives. But Spock didn't allow himself to think of whose lives, because that could lead to irrational thinking. Again.

Spock wasn't surprised when they came upon a small civilization of houses made of what appeared to be plant life and the muck from around the river beds, dried in the sunlight and the cold. It was built on the side of a cliff of towering red rock, using it for shelter against the harshest of weathers in this hostile environment. Spock paused as he stared, wondering why it looked so wrong.

“They're so... small.” It was Ensign Carpenter who made the observation, and Spock felt foolish for not having realized it before. The creatures they'd encountered thus far had been large, much too big to live comfortably in these huts. So either they'd stumbled upon another civilization of aliens, or there was something else going on.

The team froze as a shrill noise filled the air, loud and impossible to ignore. When movement caught Spock's eye, he pushed the rest of his crew to an outcropping of rock a few feet away, where they quickly hid themselves. Spock didn't allow the humans to look, instead putting himself at risk by rising slightly above the rocks and staring at what he saw.

Men and women – _human_ men and women – were slowly exiting the small buildings, most forced to duck as they left the doors. Each had a shackle around his or her right ankle, but there were no chains attached. It must have some electronic tracker or punisher, Spock decided. They also all wore a clear mask that must provide oxygen. The Vulcan frowned as he watched them slowly move to the center of the small village, where a small podium stood. There one of the aliens had suddenly appeared, speaking in a series of clicks that Spock didn't understand, but clearly the humans – slaves – did. It was a short conversation and then all of the humans began moving in different directions, clearly given their duties for the day.

Spock watched the alien closely, but he only saw the creature go so far as the cliff before he must have blinked, because suddenly it disappeared completely.

Spock sunk down to his knees, feeling defeat but only letting his face convey thought. The others were watching him.

“It seems they are using humans as slaves. I have not seen the captain or the doctor, but I'm sure they will eventually be used in the same way.”

They looked upset by the news of their kind being slaves, but not horribly surprised. They'd seen it before, and they would see it again.

“So... what do we do?” That was the other ensign, Catlow. He looked out of his depth. Spock wondered why he had been selected for this mission, because it seemed clear to him that the boy had never been on the ground team before, and this was a particularly important mission. As were all the times they were forced to rescue the captain, of course, but this time was on a completely foreign planet.

Spock shook himself out of his musings and made sure he had a calm, bland look on his face.

“We go find the captain.” He answered simply, and began making his way towards the center of the little village. They would follow him or they wouldn't, but the only way to find the captain was to get closer.

If he got captured in the same way, perhaps he would be able to help where Kirk and Bones failed.

_You're being illogical. You should plan-_

But he shut off that part of his brain in favor of doing something real. Because he couldn't wait any longer.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while - I've been busy and museless. But here's chapter four. Hopefully I get five worked on and up in less time than this one. Hope you like it, and thank you for the beautiful and kind comments you've left for me!


	5. Chapter 5

Bones assumed they'd been there for days, but he couldn't be sure.

He'd had a lot of time to think, with Kirk fading in and out of consciousness. At this point, he was mostly out, which was worrying, but there was little more the doctor could do for his captain. He'd check his vitals when he was asleep, do whatever he could to make the man feel comfortable when he was awake. It was getting rough for Kirk. Not that it hadn't been before, but some of the time he wasn't at all lucid, fighting off creatures that weren't there. There had been a terribly upsetting moment when he'd thought he was dying again. That had been heart breaking to watch, because all he wanted was to see Spock, Spock would save him. Over and over Bones had assured him that Spock was on his way, all the while wondering where the bastard was.

The only thing Bones could come up with was that Spock was being forced to stand down, which wouldn't be at all surprising. The Federation had been known to make unreasonable demands of it's ships when they thought the best course of action was to wait for backup. No normal human being could stand around and wait while they had friends in danger. But if there was a ship nearby to enforce that rule...

The only thing Bones could come up with was they were being forcibly detained. Because otherwise there was no excuse for leaving Kirk to suffer like this.

No one had done anything to Leonard, which seemed strange. There were two perfectly good test subjects in the room, why only use one? Not that he wanted to deal with what Kirk was, but there was only so much a person could take before...

As if to contest that, Kirk groaned and opened his eyes. It was a process, a difficult one, and he didn't even bother trying to sit up anymore. They both knew it would make him dizzy, causing the permanent headache to throb him into unconsciousness again. Besides, the nausea had already made him lose his stomach once, and there wasn't enough food he could eat for him to be losing it.

“Any changes?”

“Not that I can tell.” Snark had left the captain after the headache had really set in. It was painful for him to speak at all, and the extra verbiage necessary to make snarky remarks was too much. Bones was surprised to find that he missed it.

“Well, that's something at least.” It wasn't really. Something would be Kirk feeling better, but at least it wasn't worse. It could be worse. It could be worse. He had to keep reminding himself.

“Spock better get his ass here soon.” Kirk was quiet, serious. Bones frowned at his friend and sighed.

“You'll just have to hold out until he does.”

There was silence, and Bones thought Kirk had fallen asleep again. But when he glanced over, the captain was staring at the ceiling, only the slightest of frowns creasing his forehead. Deep in thought, it seemed, or deep in ignoring the pain. Whichever was the case, Bones knew better than to disturb him.

It was with a groan that Bones rose as he heard the telltale signs of the creatures coming to get Kirk for one thing or another. He placed himself between the door and the captain, as he always did, even though it had yet to make a difference to them. They just threw him aside like a rag doll and did what they were planning anyway.

“Bones... just move.” Kirk was so resigned, but still trying to be the protective captain. Even though he couldn't do anything for himself, he still tried to protect his crew. Which was exactly why Bones would never listen.

The door opened, and Leonard braced himself for the impact that always came shortly after. But instead, he felt their hands grip his arms and force them behind his back. Cold shackles pressed into his wrists, and before he knew what was happening he was being dragged from the room.

“Let me go, you... you... he needs me, don't you see that? If you're going to keep prodding and poking him he needs me to keep him alive, he needs me to-”

Kirk lost all contact with the doctor as the door closed and left him completely alone.

With a sigh, he thanked whatever powers might be. Bones wouldn't have to watch him die. That was a blessing, at least.

-

Three days had passed, and Spock was no closer to finding the doctor and the captain than he had been when they'd first arrived.

They'd watched the humans go about their work, doing things that weren't so unusual for a simple colony like this seemed to be; taking care of livestock, tending gardens and farms, collecting wood for fires and repairs. If not for the shackles and the morning assemblies, Spock would have assumed they were just a normal colony, with no connection to the creatures who had presumably kidnapped and were slowly killing friends.

Of course, he told the humans who formed his ground team that they were just gathering all of the information they would need to make a successful rescue. It helped with their morale, and it wouldn't do to have them questioning their leader when the stakes were so high. It would just make their eventual rescue more difficult. Catlow and Henley seemed to believe him, and went about following his orders as if he was always in charge. Carpenter was harder to convince, it seemed, and she gave him disbelieving looks every time he assured the other two that they were doing something worthwhile. But she never said anything, which was more than he could ask.

It wasn't until they were sitting just behind a rock outcropping, watching the humans meander around with livestock, while Catlow and Henley were off keeping tabs on the farming community that she finally sighed, heavily and clearly annoyed.

“Did you have something to say, ensign Carpenter?” Spocks voice was neutral, sounding for all the world like a pure Vulcan.

“No sir. Not unless you include questioning everything that your commanding officer is doing something to say.”

She had certainly picked up the captain's attitude, which was almost a comfort to him. Almost.

“Pardon me, ensign?”

“You heard me. We aren't gathering necessary intelligence, we're stalling until you come up with something to do. And unless you get to it soon, there won't be any reason to _have_ intel. Either we'll be locked up on some Federation ship or the captain and Dr. McCoy will be dead. Or both. I'm tired of wasting our time.”

Spock just stared at the woman for a moment before he nodded. “I'm aware. But if you have a plan that includes finding the captain and no one dying, I am more than willing to hear it. Otherwise, we'll keep 'gathering intel' until we have one.”

Her lips pressed together in an obvious display of anger before she nodded. She looked back at the humans, although it was clear her mind wasn't on what she was seeing any longer. But so long as she didn't cause dissent among the other two members, they would be fine.

Unless he never found the captain. Unless he got them all killed. Unless they were caught by the Federation and forced to resign their posts. Really, he had no guarantee that anything would be fine.

“Is that...?”

“What. Ensign Carpenter?”

“Is that Dr. McCoy?”

Spock felt his eyebrows lift an infinitesimal amount as he turned to look. And he was surprised to see that she was correct, the doctor was shuffling along with the other humans. But his eyes were much wider, and he seemed unwilling even as he followed. They were switching groups, something that they'd grown accustomed to in their days of observation. It seemed the took shifts working and resting, so they could go for longer. But Leonard McCoy hadn't been in this group before.

“We have to do something-”

Spock put a hand on the eager ensign's shoulder to stop her from running towards one of the men they'd been searching for. “We must wait until the shift changes, or there may be trouble. We are still unsure what will happen if the shackles are activated.”

She was tense for another moment before she drooped, accepting what he said as truth. That was probably one of Spock's favorite things about this woman – her ability to understand logic, even if she didn't always come up with it on her own.

It was the longest they'd ever had to wait, it seemed, although it couldn't have been more than a few hours. When the alert came that the shift was changing, they watched Bones as he shuffled with the rest of them towards a shaded area where food and drink were stored. He sat on the edge, looking uncomfortable and ready to run at the slightest provocation.

 

“You must go to him.” Spock hated to put the responsibility on the ensign, but he had no other choice. As a Vulcan, he would draw more attention to himself than another human would. She understood that, it seemed, because she only nodded and crept to where the doctor was seated. When she came to open area, she held herself in much the same way the slaves did, with shuffling steps and a bowed head. No one spared her a second glance, and soon she was sitting beside the doctor, whispering to him without looking at him. Spock watched as the conversation seemed to grow heated, as it was wont to do with the doctor. It was a little while longer before Carpenter stood, leaving the doctor behind as she slowly made her way back to Spock.

“What did the doctor say?” It was all he could do to keep that sentence calm.

“The shackle won't let him leave the designated areas, and if he shows any sign of disobedience he'll be out cold. He's stuck until we can get that off of him.”

“And the captain?”

She was quiet for a moment, clearly thinking of the correct way to explain it to the Vulcan. “The doctor has been separated from him, but... it seems he wasn't doing well. Very sick, Dr. McCoy said, and getting worse. He might not even be alive still.”

That news hit worse than a blow ever could, but Spock only let a moment of weakness escape before he nodded. “Did he say where they were keeping Kirk?”

“Somewhere inside the cliff. He couldn't give me much detail, but it seems they've hollowed it out, created another colony inside for the natives.”

“Then we must figure out how to get inside.” Which was very easy to say, but he had no idea how to go about doing that.

“They bring some of the humans inside at night – couldn't we just send someone in with them?”

“It would be dangerous.”

“It's dangerous to let the captain sit dying alone while we try to come up with something better.” She eyed Spock, an eyebrow lifted, daring him to contest her argument.

-

Spock wouldn't let one of the others go inside, so he'd allowed himself to be disguised before blending with the group of humans that was being shepherded into a giant door in the red stone cliff. A hat Bones had managed to slip them covered his pointed ears and harshly angled brows, and a blanket they'd discovered abandoned covered what they could of his uniform pants. He'd completely stripped himself of his shirt, because there was no real way to hide the bright blue among the quieter, muted colors of the human slaves.

Bones shuffled beside him, head down as he cursed under his breath. He'd said many times that he thought this was a stupid plan, that they'd be better waiting than getting killed, but he couldn't argue about the captain needing help as soon as possible. So he walked next to Spock and kept his opinions mostly to himself.

They were coming to the door when Spock noticed that they were scanning each person coming in, both with eyes and with some kind of device that read the ankle shackles. For a moment, his mind raced, trying to determine the best course of action. And when nothing immediately came to mind, he found he must rely on his instincts alone.

The scanner started beeping when he came close, and it took them seconds to realize that Spock didn't belong with the human sheep they were herding. It took seconds more for Spock to stun both of the creatures and take off inside, racing down the passageways without regard for the men and women he knocked over or the direction he needed to go. None of that mattered, not now that he was inside. So long as he could get inside, he could find the captain.

So he dashed through the hallways in search of a place to hide and plan his next move.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And another chapter. Hopefully my muse continues to grow as I continue to write. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed, and stay tuned!


	6. Chapter 6

Bones lost sight of the Vulcan as he dashed around a corner, to the sound of the lone scanner beeping. They didn't have an alarm system throughout the complex, it seemed, because that was the only sign that something was wrong. That, and the crowd of milling humans that suddenly had no chaperons.

It only took Bones a second to take off. Spock had run in the wrong direction, of course the pointy ear had. That was about how this whole mission had gone, one issue after another. But maybe Spock's distraction was all he needed to get Kirk out. And maybe the idiot would find them on their way out, and they could all get back on the ship and fly away like none of this had ever happened.

He couldn't have suppressed the snort that followed those thoughts if he'd tried. It was never that easy, and they all knew it.

He flew down the passages, even though his whole body begged him to stop. The day had been hard on him, both emotionally and physically, and now he was asking too much of it. But he couldn't stop. He had to keep going, keep pushing, because Kirk might not have long left.

There. He remembered this door, because when he'd been thrown inside the first time he'd taken note of the dip in the wall right beside it.

But now the real challenge came: how to open it.

It had seemed to him that the natives had used some kind of scanner built into the door, and it had taken pictures of fingerprints or something to that effect when they pressed a finger to it. If it was fingerprints, there was no way Bones was going to be able to get in, and he would probably set off the only alarm they'd built into the place. But they'd been lax thus far, clearly not used to outsiders with military background and a fierce desire to live.

He took a deep breath and pressed a finger to the small scanner, which was set just above his eye level. Immediately he began to hear the rumble that meant the door was opening, and he sighed deeply with relief. Something was going right. Maybe they'd get out of this yet.

As soon as the thought touched his mind, pain broke out in ever nerve in his body. Distantly he recognized it as the ankle shackle doing it's job, prodding literally every nerve into screaming with pain. He saw Kirk laying on the ground, not moving, just as he fell to the ground and lost awareness of the world outside of his own tortured body.

-

Kirk didn't bother moving, or even looking, when the door opened once more. He'd been having a pleasant dream about a group of women he'd met on shore leave to Galvin 5, and he much preferred that be his last sight to the ugly aliens come to poke and prod and kill. Besides, they'd do what they wanted whether he looked or not, whether he fought or not. This was easier.

When nothing happened, he slowly allowed one eye to creep open, and when he saw no one he looked to the door, which was wide open with no one in sight. He pushed himself painfully up only to realize there _was_ someone – Bones, laying on the floor, his body wracked with spasms and his eyes clenched shut.

His first reaction was to run to his friend. He made it to his knees before the pain was so great that he blacked out for a moment, waking once more on the floor. To a normal person, that would have been a sign to stop, to hope for the best and deal with the pain. James Tiberius Kirk, however, pushed to his hands and knees, forcing back the nausea and pushing through the pain and dizziness. His pace was painfully slow, but eventually he made it to Bones. The spasms has lessened to tremors, but he didn't seem to be any more aware of his surroundings.

“Bones, come on.” His voice was a whispered rasp, spoken around panting breaths. “It can't be that bad, you have to get up.” because Kirk certainly couldn't. He'd used all his remaining strength and energy just crawling to his friend, there was no way he could get them out of here.

He glanced down at the shackle, which seemed so harmless but clearly wasn't. And it was beyond Kirk to understand it, so there was no way he could stop it.

Unless he could get it off.

He had nothing left in him, no strength, no energy, but if he only got that thing off, maybe...

He managed to maneuver himself to Bones' ankle, and after a brief hesitation he wrapped his fingers around the shackle. He'd half expected the pain to break through his own body, something with touch, but he felt nothing. As his fingers brushed against the cold ring, he discovered there wasn't a seam, no where for it to have joined together, but it was too small to get over the foot.

That was all he managed before his body gave out. He landed hard on his shoulder, but he hardly noticed it as his body buzzed with the pain. He'd felt pain like this before. He knew what was happening. And he knew there was nothing to stop it.

Footsteps. So they weren't getting out of here after all. Bones would be sent back to wherever he'd been or killed, Kirk would be put back in his cell. They didn't need to bother killing him, they'd already done that.

He didn't have to look to know the feeling of their hands on him. The whimper that escaped his lips was pathetic, but the tight grip around his throat was too painful, and the breath he needed wasn't able to squeeze past. He watched as one of them grabbed Bones, who wasn't moving any longer. Either he was too gone to feel the pain, or they'd stopped it now that they had the disobedient slave. Kirk assumed the former.

Clicking, always with the clicking. Kirk's vision was going dark around the edges as his brain shut down. Maybe he wouldn't wake up this time. That would probably be a blessing, at this point.

He was hardly aware when he was dropped to the floor, presumably in his cell to rot. It wasn't until he heard a familiar voice that he fought his way back to consciousness.

“Captain.” Spock's face was a dream. It had to be, because he'd given up all hope of ever getting out of this place. So he closed his eyes again, hoping it would continue and he'd have pleasant last memories.

“Captain, you must stay awake. I fear you will not wake up if you fall asleep now.”

“Leave me alone.” He'd meant it to be a murmur as he went to sleep, but it sounded more like a choked mouse. He frowned at the sounds he'd made, his eyes opening to slits to stare at the man who knelt above him.

“Dr. McCoy, are you able to stand?”

Kirk barely heard the shuffling as Bones tried to get up. He didn't even know if the man was successful. The world dropped away as blissful sleep overtook him.

-

Spock knew the Captain wouldn't be able to stay awake, just by the way he was acting. So despite the little prick of fear in his chest when it finally happened, he wasn't surprised. What he needed most was for the doctor to be able to get up and move, because otherwise he wasn't sure how they were getting out.

Nor how they were keeping Kirk alive, but that was for later, when they were safe. Kirk would just have to stay alive long enough for them to be safe, and then they would do the rest.

McCoy slowly, shakily pushed himself to his feet. It would have to do, Spock decided as he watched the doctor lean heavily against the wall. His face was set and determined, prepared to deal with hell to get back to the ship. Most likely, he was having much the same thoughts that Spock was.

“'m fine. Let's go.”

Spock nodded, internally calculating how much slower he'd have to go so Bones could keep up. The result was frustrating, but they'd manage. They had no other choice.

If they could escape this compound, they could meet up with the other three on the ground team, which would make their progress exponentially faster.

Spock slowly picked the captain up, cradling the man in his arms like a father might a child, and began the trek. He remembered exactly how to leave the civilization in the cliff, now. His earlier misdirection had lost precious time, but he wouldn't make the same mistake. So long as the door was still open. Or they could figure out how to open the door. And no one caught them.

There were a lot of unknowns or uncontrollable variables in this situation that Spock didn't care for at all. But there was nothing he could do, so he began setting the pace for their escape.

-

While Uhura understood that Sulu was the acting captain and she should do as he said, what he said was stupid.

She understood distancing themselves from the Spock's actions, because it would only get them in trouble and when the captain was ready to take over his ship again, he wouldn't have a crew left to do so. She understood he was just doing what he thought was best, and she respected that. She respected him, and what he did.

But just now, he was wrong, and she wasn't going to sit around doing nothing.

With a communicator by her side, she sorted through the collection of language samples they'd gathered from the surface and compared them to languages she already knew. There were a few that were close, almost painfully close, but they weren't similar enough to use as a base for translating. And it was driving her crazy, that the only thing she could do to help her friends and Spock was fail at translating a language that could potentially save their lives.

But who was she kidding? They hadn't received communication for hours, well past the typical check in time. Translating a language would mean nothing if she couldn't relay that translation to the people who needed it.

With a heavy sigh, she laid her head down on the desk in front of her and stared at the wall. She was a mess, and she knew Spock would scold her for letting emotions run her actions. Of course, it was a lifetime's practice for him, she was only human. Humans were meant to feel emotion, that's what made them human. But she wasn't a huge fan of that at the moment.

Another heavy sigh and Uhura decided she wasn't getting any work done, anyway, might as well call it finished for the night. Then she could go to her room and pretend to sleep. Because in all actuality, sleep was elusive for most members of the crew, and she was no exception.

Nyota picked up her space, covered in pages of dialects no one had heard in centuries and scribbles as she attempted to match them, carefully arranging piles of notes to come back to in the morning. Maybe she'd see something she hadn't after her eyes were closed for a while.

She was putting a few books back on the small shelf in the corner when she thought she heard the crackle of the communicator, but after a moment's pause she dismissed it as wishful thinking. She'd been hoping to hear that sound for so long, she wasn't surprised that her sleep-deprived mind was attempting to create it.

Still... she went back to the communicator, left on the desk, and picked it up, looking at it with the kind of intensity she usually reserved for her work. If they were trying to communicate, and she left it here, she would never forgive herself. Even if nothing bad happened, even if it was just a delay in their rescue. She needed them back and safe on this ship, as soon as possible. So she took the communicator with her as she left, gripping it tightly as if that would help them find their way back.

It wasn't until she'd been asleep for several hours that she heard the voice, begging someone to answer.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Immediately after Spock and Bones began making their way toward the exit with an unconscious captain, they heard a large number of large feet pounding their way through the hall. It took seconds for Spock to find the small, shadowed hole in the wall and shove the three of them inside, pressing as close to the back wall as possible in the hopes that the short opening and the darkness would hide them from their large captors.

His plan was successful; they didn't look down by their feet, and they didn't expect the three would have stopped so close to the jail that had held Kirk. They were not recaptured... but they might as well have been, for all the good they could do stuck in this hole.

Spock looked at Kirk, whose face was still slack and empty. He was breathing still, and fortunately the struggle was quiet. Hopefully that didn't mean his body was giving up the struggle. Hopefully they could still fix the captain.

Dr. McCoy was looking at him, but the Vulcan didn't meet the doctor's eyes. He couldn't. He didn't have a plan, and that's what McCoy would be asking for. A plan to get both of the former prisoners home before they died or became prisoners again.

Another glance at Kirk's face. Then a long, calculating silence as he listened to the sound of footsteps all around them, particularly in the direction they needed to go. There were too many of them. There were just too many of them. They needed a miracle.

A loud noise, much like an explosion, came from the opposite direction of the door. Spock tensed and held a warning hand up to Bones, who had just been about to question, loudly, what was going on. Soon the footsteps were running past them, running to the source of the commotion. Spock pulled Kirk into his arms and, as soon as the footsteps were past, he sent McCoy a look and took off. They had to make use of this distraction, with no though to what it could be. Clearly it wasn't planned.

They didn't see any sign of the creatures until they reached the door, where one stood guard. Only one. Spock was about to set Kirk down, but before he could do anything he saw McCoy flash past, faster than Spock had thought possible in his condition, and with one hand jabbed the creature at the base of the head. Instantly the creature fell, completely unconscious. He would ask the doctor about that later. Now, they needed to escape.

“Lucky guess.” the doctor muttered, rubbing his hand and panting.

So he wouldn't have to ask later.

They picked up their pace, even though it seemed a struggle for McCoy, and once they cleared the door they went faster, and as far as they possibly could. They saw no one. And when they collapsed two miles away and took a chance to just breathe, they had no idea where they were, where the Enterprise was, where the rest of the ground team had gone.

Spock took his communicator out, assuming neither Kirk or McCoy still had theirs, and began speaking, informing the crew of their coordinates and their need to get Kirk out of here immediately. But when no one answered except the crackle of static, he knew it was pointless. The signal was blocked here, and there was no way for them to contact the Enterprise. Either they found the source of the block, or they prayed that someone would miraculously discover their location and beam them up.

Spock didn't believe in miracles.

“Dr. McCoy. I need to search for the source of our signal block. I am leaving you here to watch the Captain. Be sure he survives to my return.”

“Spock, I don't think-”

“We don't have another choice.”

A moment of silence followed Spock's words, during which the two exchanged long, hard looks. But McCoy knew that Spock was right, and eventually he turned his gaze to Kirk and nodded.

“Be fast, pointy-ear. We don't have long.”

And those were the words that sent Spock off.

-

Everything had gone horribly wrong. Horribly horribly wrong.

Mia Carpenter had tried to tell them their bright idea wasn't so bright. They'd been waiting for Spock to return for much too long, and eventually the men decided they had to do something. While Mia had agreed, she had tried to argue that something of this scale was too dangerous.

Of course, they hadn't listened.

It had been Jacinto's idea. He'd convinced Seth that it made sense. Mia had argued that they didn't know where the captain was, it could be dangerous. But they'd already made up their minds, and of course Jac had come prepared. So the explosives that he'd for some reason brought with him were placed on the side of the cliff that housed the slaver natives, and they were huddled behind an outcropping of rocks a couple hundred feet away that was only slightly different than every other pile of rocks they'd ever seen or hid behind.

“Seth, please, we could hurt the captain or Dr. McCoy. This is crazy, just... don't let him do this. Let's find a different way, or just wait for Mr. Spock to return-”

“Mr. Spock has been gone too long. Something's wrong. The best thing we can do is give them another way out.” Jacinto butted into the argument, as he was prone to do. He was a big-headed fool, a lover of attention and king of the spotlight. How he'd ever ended up in engineering instead of a position of power was a mystery.

Then again, he was a pro at convincing his superiors, like _Lieutenant_ Seth Henley, to do whatever he wanted. And the idiot was hanging on the ensign's words like they were the most inspiring thing he'd ever heard.

Idiots.

But as she was outvoted, there was little she could do short of violence, which she refused. So she pressed her back against the rock and waited for the explosion, preparing herself for the ringing that would likely fill her ears for weeks after.

“We'll get them out safely.” Henley tried to comfort her, feeling that he was the leader in this situation and should take care of his team. Just because he technically outranked her didn't make him the leader, especially not when he was letting that idiot Catlow make the decisions.

“If we don't, it's on you.” There. Let him ruminate on that for a while. If he wanted to play leader, he could deal with the consequences. Not her problem.

The boys huddled against the rock, one on each side of her, and Catlow pressed the button that would ignite the explosives.

Except nothing happened.

“Aw, come on!” Jac actually seemed disappointed that he hadn't blown a hole in the side of the cliff and caused their enemy to pour upon them like fire ants. He stood and went to investigate, and when he apparently couldn't figure out what was wrong he called Seth over.

Mia sighed as Seth stood and went to help Jac attempt to figure out the problem. He'd only taken a step when the deafening roar and the force of several explosives threw Seth backwards. Mia didn't see where he landed as she held back the instinctive scream and instead hunkered down, putting her hands over her head and hoping it ended soon.

It was seconds after she deemed it safe that Mia was up. She glanced back to see if she could find Jac alive and breathing, but she didn't have much hope. He had to have been right next to it. So she turned to where Seth had been thrown and stumbled forward, feeling the effects of the blast to her ears as she struggled to keep her balance. Seth was laying a good ten feet away, but she could see his chest moving. It was rough, but it was moving. There was hope for one of them, at least.

She fell next to him, which would have to be good enough. She ignored the pain in her right knee, where she must have landed on something sharp. With a hesitant hand, she rolled Seth onto his back. His eyes opened immediately and stared at her, and a small whimper escaped his lips. Then his eyes clenched shut as he focused on breathing.

Shit.

A trail of blood was leaking from the corner of his mouth, and burns marked his cheeks and his nose. She could see his chest where the explosion had burned away his uniform, and she could already tell there was at least one rib broken, if not more. And the blood suggested internal bleeding.

She was a science officer, but not medical. She didn't know how to deal with this. If it was just a broken arm, or a blunt wound to the head, she could deal with it. That was about as far as her experience went.

She looked up at the hole in the cliff. At least they'd accomplished what they'd come to do. Perhaps at the cost of both of their lives, but it was done. And maybe... maybe at least the Captain would be safe. Maybe Spock and the doctor would get to the Enterprise with the Captain and at least the mission wouldn't be for nothing.

She hadn't realized she was crying until Seth whined quietly, feeling the salt of her tears landing on his burns. Then she hastily wiped them away with her sleeve and realized she had a communicator. Maybe they could get in contact with the Enterprise now. It was probably false hope, and she should probably give it up, but she had to try. Because the natives were probably coming and Seth was probably dying and there wasn't anything she could do about either.

With shaking hands, she reached into the pouch at her waist that held her communicator. It had been damaged sometime during their running around, but in theory that was just cosmetic damage, and the important parts would still function.

“Hello? Carpenter to the Enterprise. Can anyone hear me? Please, someone hear me. Please, Henley is wounded and Catlow... I think he's dead, and I can't protect them both. Please, please answer me. Please let this be working, please... Carpenter to Enterprise. We need to be beamed up, if you can hear me. Please-”

Suddenly the communicator flew from her hand, and her attention was drawn to the natives that were swarming from their new door. She had no doubt they were angry, even though she couldn't read their faces.

Phaser. Her phaser was still attached to her belt. She stood, stumbling as she did so, and positioned herself in front of Henley. She drew the phaser, sure to check it was set to kill, and began shooting. She didn't feel anything as some of the creatures fell to the ground, as she routinely killed them without emotion. Or at least stunned them, she couldn't be sure. But she hit them right between the eyes each and every time.

Pain in her shoulder made her drop the phaser, and more in her leg made her collapse. She struggled to get to the phaser, but knew she'd never get to it before they killed her.

She was supposed to go home. She was supposed to go meet her new nephew once this mission was over. She wasn't supposed to die here.

At the last second, she felt the strange tugging that she associated with beaming. She looked at Seth to see the familiar white energy surrounding him, and suddenly they were on the Enterprise, the cold metal beneath them a welcome relief.

“Where's Spock?” Uhura. Mia looked up at the woman who was, frankly, extremely intimidating. And she had to answer, but she really didn't want to.

“We were separated. He went into the native's home to find Kirk-” Uhura didn't say anything more, turning her back and leaving, her ponytail swishing like an angry cat's tail.

Mia let her body give in to the exhaustion she felt once Uhura was gone. The medical team would be there soon to take care of Henley. She could let go of her feeling of control now. She could ignore the deep guilt at letting one of her teammates die.

She could pretend she wouldn't be partly to blame if Spock, Bones, and Kirk never made it back.

 


	8. Chapter 8

So once again Dr. Leonard McCoy was left alone with the dying captain.

It's not like this was an uncommon situation. Every time something went wrong on a mission, every time Kirk went off on his own, even every time Kirk discovered something else that he was deadly allergic to, they ended up in this spot.

He was sick of it.

Their shelter under a small overhang in a slightly larger rocky outcropping was not the best place to do an exam of the captain, but the unconsciousness concerned Bones, as did the slow, rough breaths that were only getting slower and more rough. He started by checking Kirk's vitals again, which hadn't changed all that much since he'd last checked, but they were slightly worse. That wasn't a huge cause for concern at the moment; the rate of deterioration there was slow, and wouldn't cause problems for a while. The redness giving his face color wasn't concerning, either: he was running a fever, which wasn't at all surprising. Bones put a hand to Kirk's forehead, attempting to decide if the fever had gotten worse. He couldn't tell. He dragged his hand over the captain's hair as he tried to come up with an answer, and was horrified to find hair sticking to his palm when he pulled it away. And suddenly, he understood what was happening, at least to an extent. Not how, not why, but what.

Khan's blood wasn't doing it's job anymore. Something had counteracted the effect, and the radiation was pouring through Kirk's body once more. It was moving more slowly than it had the first time, which was at least a small miracle, but Bones had no way to stop it. And it wasn't like he'd kept a stash of the Augment's blood on hand. He hadn't anticipated ever seeing a need for it as he had then, not with the side effects he knew Kirk had suffered.

He'd do it again in a heart beat, if it would save his friend's life.

“Damn it Kirk, what's going on with you?” Bones muttered, his eyes tracing the lines of his friend's face as if he'd never see it again. He cursed himself and stopped. Kirk wasn't going to die. He hadn't died before, he wouldn't die this time.

That being said, how could he stop something internal with no tools or equipment?

Spock had better get back quickly. They needed to get back to the Enterprise, asap.

-

It had been a simple matter to reenter the enemy fortress. If they'd been unprepared for an escape, they were completely unexpecting reentry. After all, what kind of fool would return to the place he'd just escaped?

He crept through the tunnel-like hallways, retracing steps he'd taken earlier. He remembered seeing some sort of control room on his scenic route to the captain and doctor, and that was his first stop. In theory, he would be able to differentiate between the different systems and destroy what was necessary to get communication out. If he couldn't, he would just destroy the whole room and hope something was correct.

No one was around to stop him moving silently through the space. Presumably they'd all gone outside, to search for the escaped prisoners or the cause of the explosion. Perhaps both. He was able to make it to the room with no problems, creeping through the opening in the wall that served as a door. There was no one inside, everything running silently on its own. One look around the room showed this technology was completely different than anything he'd ever worked with, but he managed to pinpoint the section that could only be a communications jammer, by process of elimination. It was a simple matter to disconnect the wires, but just to be sure he also took his phaser from its holster and shot at the console, listening to the satisfying sound of sparks as the console fried.

Immediately a crackle issued from his communicator. He pulled it from his belt and spoke into it. “Spock to Enterprise. Take us out of here.”

“Spock!” The voice was Uhura's, relief clear in her voice. It made Spock warm inside, even though he tried desperately to suppress human feelings.

“Spock. Is the captain with you?”

Of course. The lieutenant's words, business as usual, successfully pushed back any emotional words he would give to Uhura.

“They are approximately two miles from my location. The captain is in desperate need of medical attention.”

“Get us out of here.” That was Bone's, snarling through the communicator. Spock nodded. They must be safe, then, for the doctor to take that tone.

“Beaming you up.”

Spock felt a deep relief sink through his body, despite attempts to stop it. They were getting out. Everyone was alive. They would be okay.

He saw the white lights that meant he was about to be transported to the ship, and stood perfectly still as he waited.

A noise by the door. Spock turned just as pain burst through his chest. He caught sight of his attacker just before his knees gave out. He heard a stern “Don't move,” from his communicator, but he couldn't listen as he hit the floor, hard.

At least the floor his shoulder hits is the Enterprise. A strange thought, but that's all he could think before his mind went blank with pain.

-

Uhura couldn't contain herself when she heard Spock's voice, finally making contact.

“Spock!”

As soon as she did it, she knew she shouldn't have. She shouldn't distract him, even if he was close to returning. He needed to keep his head about him, and she knew she was detrimental to that.

She heard Sulu take control, and she let him. She had to try hard to keep herself from running to the transporter room, had to school her features to stop the giddy relief showing in a goofy smile. She managed to keep a businesslike walk when she just wanted to sprint, managed a calm, slightly happy face when she wanted to laugh with joy.

She arrived just as the forms of her friends and Spock appeared, shadows. She knew the two on the ground, close to each other, were Kirk and McCoy. The medical team waited for them, prepared to rush the both of them to the medbay where they would have a complete examination and treatment for whatever might ail them.

That meant the third one was Spock. She smiled at the sight of him, standing tall. But then his whole body jerked, and suddenly he was on his knees. When he fully materialized, he fell to the floor, his eyes staring blankly forward as he curled up his hands fluttering at his chest. She didn't understand immediately what was wrong as she flew to his side, his name falling from her lips in terrified repetition. But as she gently placed a hand on his shoulder, she saw the indent in his shirt where there shouldn't be one, saw the struggle for breath that hadn't been detectable only moments before over the communicator.

“What in the hell happened to him?” Bones snarled as his medical team swarmed him and Kirk, prepared for the injuries that they suffered. “Someone go see what the hell Spock did to himself, dammit.”

Uhura let herself be pushed away as two of the team came to the science officer, immediately finding the cause for Spock's collapse. They stripped him of his shirt, cutting it straight up the middle with medical grade scissors, to find the already bruising, broken chest.

Uhura watched numbly as they determined whether he was moveable, watched as they hauled him out of the room on a stretcher, only seconds behind the unconscious Captain. Bones hauled himself to his feet, clearly wobbly and not as well as he'd yelled he was, and hobbled after the two men. Uhura watched them all leave before she shook herself out of the trance she'd fallen into. She had work to do.

She returned to her rooms and filled her mind with the sounds of the native's strange language, losing herself in her quest to translate and trying desperately to keep Spock out of her mind until there was something she could do.

-

It was days before Starfleet arrived, to discover the captain and doctor both safe and aboard the ship. They demanded to see Spock, who still had not woken up, and when they learned he'd been badly injured in the rescue attempt the fury only increased. Sulu was left to deal with them, and he only fumed when he returned to the ship. So none of the crew were aware of the decision that had been made.

Kirk was very touch and go. There had been moments that his body had given up, only to be violently restarted by whatever means necessary. Sulu had tried to negotiate for more of the blood that had kept the Captain alive in the first place, but was decline over and over. While they were concerned – they argued just as concerned, but everyone aboard the Enterprise knew that was a lie – they couldn't afford to use that blood, for fear that it would do worse things.

Uhura later learned from a colleague that all of the human augments had been destroyed, and Starfleet was keeping it quiet until they could figure out what had happened. Sulu barely kept her from confronting the higherups and demanding an explanation for information she wasn't even supposed to have.

-

Kirk woke slowly, his whole body pounding with pain. He was uncomfortably familiar with this pain, and a look at McCoy, sleeping in the chair beside the bed with his head in his hands, told him it was exactly what he thought.

A deep sigh escaped him, and that devolved into coughs. His hands came away from his mouth bloody, and he almost sighed again. To be done in by something so boring, in a hospital bed without the blaze of glory. This was not how he'd dreamed of dying.

Bones jerked awake suddenly, almost falling to the floor before righting himself and standing. He met Kirk's eyes, frowned, and nodded.

“So you know, then.”

“Yeah.” Kirk's voice was a croak, either from days of disuse or from the poison in his body, he couldn't tell which. He felt so weak, just saying the one word was an effort.

Bones took a handkerchief from his pocket and slowly dabbed at Kirk's mouth, wiping away the blood that had settled there.

“No super human blood to pump me full of, huh?”

“Not this time.”

“Shit.”

And that word was full of regret and fear, and shame for that fear. Bones' eyes were full of compassion and sadness.

“Yeah.” They sat in silence for a moment, both reflecting on the lives they'd had together.

“You're not dead yet.” Bones muttered, almost to himself, before he sat back down and relaxed into the chair. “It seems all the human augments were mysteriously destroyed. Starfleet has no frickin' clue how it happened. The Enterprise is ordered to stay still until our punishment is decided, anyway, so it's not like we could go steal it.”

“Spock would figure it out. Is he going stir crazy? I would be, in his position.” Bones' face fell, and Kirk didn't need to ask. But he did. “What happened?”

“He was attacked just before we got you up here. Something hit him really hard, his rib cage is practically shattered. He hasn't woken up.” The doctor's voice was so tired, Kirk knew it wasn't looking good for either of them.

“Good thing we've got Sulu, then.” It was the only thought Kirk had. Bones nodded, clearly in a similar mindset. Someone had to keep the Enterprise going in the absence of both Captain and first officer.

“You just focus on getting better.”

They both knew he wouldn't.

“You just make sure Spock wakes up.”

Because there wasn't any point in deluding himself.

They sat together for a while longer, Bones relaying everything that had happened while Kirk had been absent of unconscious. Bones didn't know when Kirk fell asleep, just when the monitors started going crazy. Bones was already at work when the rest of the staff showed up. Somehow, they managed to keep Kirk alive for another few hours.

Bones didn't know how much more of this he could take.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter! Hope you're still enjoying, excuse my absences!


	9. Chapter 9

“What do you mean, they're not going to do anything?” Spock had intended his voice to be a roar, a rare display of emotion to reinforce how upset he was. What came from his mouth was a breathy question, almost annoyed. He turned his head, frustrated, and was met with too much cushion. The pillow beneath his head was too plush, and he was tired of the blankets that were scratchy. He wanted to move around, reposition, fidget, anything, but the pain in his chest was almost too much to breath, let alone move. So he didn't allow his body to do what he wanted so badly.

Bones just shrugged. “There's not much they can do. Jim's got... maybe a few days. And that's optimistic. The augments were destroyed, we don't have any miracle cure for radiation. And you know the rules about altering a civilization that's not as advanced-”

“I was on the planet, doctor, and they are most definitely as advanced-”

“You know what I mean. They haven't achieved space travel, we can't alter their timeline, blah blah blah. We're ordered to return and take a... a break.”

“A polite way to say we've been suspended following the rescue of crewmates.”

“You know I hate it as much as you do, but...” Bones took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair before hunching over, elbows on his knees, eyes on the floor. “Jim should be on solid ground when...”

“You and I both know he would rather stay on the Enterprise.”

“It's not like he knows the difference anymore. He's so out of it most of the time.”

They sat in silence for a moment, both contemplating their future, their fates. Spock was indefinitely suspended from his duties as first officer, and may never be allowed to captain a ship again. The Federation was making a point about officers who disobeyed direct orders, citing Kirk's many offenses as well as those Spock had committed under Kirk's leadership. They'd gone on and on about how this couldn't be allowed to happen any longer, and if James Tiberius Kirk was in any condition, he'd receive the same treatment. Then mumbled apologies about his current condition and untimely death, to which Spock had muttered that the captain was not dead yet.

“Former Captain,” had been the reply, to which Spock had gone cold with anger and Bones had hurriedly made up some medical excuse that Spock must be excused.

“Take me to the Captain.” Spock's own small rebellion was continuing to refer to his friend as the Captain, even though Sulu was currently using that title, until a suitable replacement for the Enterprise could be found. Apparently they didn't trust Sulu to Captain the ship that should rightfully be his, because Kirk had had too much influence. The injustices, it seemed, would never cease.

“Spock, you're in no condition-”

“This is not a request, Doctor.”

“You aren't in any sort of position to give me orders, you pointy-eared... besides, putting you two together is an offense that could cost me my career, do you think...” Bones sighed. “Fine. But if I get caught, you're paying for me to live comfortably for the rest of my life, ye hear?”

“With what money do you propose I do that?” There was a little smugness in Spock's voice, which told just how doped up on pain drugs he really was. Bones had done a lot for the Vulcan when he'd come in half-dead, but there was only so much he could do for a crushed chest. Now Spock had to heal on his own, and it was going to be a long process. A painful process.

Bones detached the bed from the floor and, after making sure Spock was appropriately strapped, began moving the bed out of the room and into the hall. They were lucky that only a few of the crew were hovering in the halls between Spock's temporary room and the med bay, where Kirk was a permanent resident.

Kirk was asleep, as he always was, when they entered. His being awake usually resulted in some catastrophic health failing, so it was a mixture of relief and disappointment for McCoy every time. He rolled Spock over to Kirk, attaching the bed to the joints in the floor that would keep the bed in place, no matter what kind of turbulence they may encounter. Then he sat back, letting Spock feel he was alone even though there was no way McCoy could leave them both, for any amount of time.

Spock stared at Kirk, a little shocked at the transformation that had taken hold of the Captain. His once strong, proud frame was shrunken, wasted away by a combination of the radiation and lack of solid food. His hair was thin, despite their best efforts to keep it in tact it was falling out. His cheeks were hollow, his lips chapped, and dark, bruise-like shadows rested permanently under his eyes. There was little that resembled the once proud, fearless leader of the Enterprise.

Not fearless, Spock remembered. He'd been afraid to die. Afraid to die just like this, but much faster, and much easier. Not this slow torture.

Spock pushed himself to his side, listening to Bones bite his tongue on protests about the vulcan's health. He wouldn't be stopped, anyway, and they both knew it. Spock stared at his captain, the only man he would allow to be his captain. No one else had the power, the heart to command a ship, not in Spock's eyes, not anymore. Not after he'd watched Kirk save the world time and time again, risking his life over and over to save everyone else. Spock had assumed it would be in some suicidal mission to save the galaxy that would kill Kirk, and he'd save everyone before he'd even think of dying. This was an insult. Whatever those creatures had done... it wasn't right.

“How did they do it?” Spock's voice was quiet, a mixture of sadness barely contained and the pain in his chest.

“A serum of some kind. At first I thought it was radioactive rock, but they injected something in the kid before things really started going south, and I haven't suffered any ill effects. They were familiar with the augment blood, it seems, and had a way to counter it before we even landed. I'd bet anything they wanted us there, and they destroyed the augments. I just wish I knew why.”

“Perhaps they had reason to hold a grudge against the augments.” Spock stared at Kirk, as if willing the captain to get better would do some good.

Silence reigned for a moment as both dwelled on memories, both of Kirk and of the augment they'd fought so desperately against, the one who had indirectly caused Kirk's first death. It was obvious why someone would have a grudge against his kind, but to wipe out any trace of them, not matter how small or beneficial, was too far. At least, that was true in the eyes of everyone aboard the Enterprise.

Spock's head shot up, and the sudden movement attracted Bones' attention. He frowned at the Vulcan, who was suddenly attempting to sit up as he pushed his legs over the side of the bed.

“Hey now, you're no where near well enough to be doing-”

“We can save the Captain.”

That made Bones freeze for a moment, his mind working overtime, but as Spock began moving again he did the same, pushing the man back down.

“Someone else can do it, you can hardly sit up.”

It was true, that Spock's breath was coming in sharp pants and the pain in his chest was indescribable, but that was secondary. The Captain was in much worse shape, and he'd given his life and career to save Spock too many times for Spock not to return the favor.

“You said earlier there was a serum that reversed the effects of the augmented blood in the Captain. If I can get some of the serum and break it down, I may be able to come up with something that will fight off the radiation once more.”

“We don't know that it would work, even if we were sure we could get our hands on the right stuff. Besides, you wouldn't be able to get into the compound without your pieces of your ribs destroying your insides, so _lay your point ear head back on that pillow and stop trying to kill yourself_.” With those words, he pushed the Vulcan down, who was loathe to listen but knew the logic behind the Doctor's words was sound. Spock wouldn't be able to make the journey, despite himself, despite how much he wanted to. And Bones was necessary to keep the two officers alive, besides not being in peak condition himself. The three who would have a chance of finding their way around the compound were incapable of doing so.

Spock deflated once more. So Kirk was to die, then, and Spock might as well do the same. He was stripped of his position, soon his best friend would be in a casket launched into space, if they allowed him even that right. He shouldn't be buried in the ground of a planet he never really felt at home on.

They wouldn't be burying him, though, because Spock would go down to the planet himself if he had to in order to save the Captain.

“The girl – woman – from science, what was her name? Could she go? She blended pretty well-”

“I cannot force her to put herself in danger yet again.”

“Don't get too mad at me, Spock, but you can't force her to do anything anymore. But if she was asked, and her commanding officer wasn't opposed to the idea...”

“She could ruin her career with StarFleet if she went to the surface. I cannot allow-”

“No offense Spock, but you can't allow anything right now. You're basically a civilian, and you can't get up and stop me.”

Bones stood and left the room, giving Spock one last look that said he'd better stay in bed where he belonged.

Sending Ensign Carpenter down was the best option they had, so Spock didn't try to chase the doctor down to stop him asking her. Instead, he returned his attention to the sleeping Captain, his thoughts wandering to what had happened and going over and over each event, trying to determine if there was anything he should have done differently. And when he came up empty, he closed his eyes in order to get some rest before something else happened.

He had hardly had a chance to soothe himself into a sleep-like state before he heard the quiet, rasping voice beside him, Immediately his eyes were open, and he pulled himself up enough to look at Kirk.

The blue eyes that met his were cloudy, ready to be released from the torment. But there was a half-smirk on his lips, as much as he could manage.

“I apologize, I didn't-”

“These could be my dying words, Spock, pay attention.” There was snark in that comment, something that had long been missing from the man. That either meant he was getting better, fighting the radiation off for a few more minutes, or he was on his last leg, the strength that showed up just before it would disappear forever.

Spock forced himself not to concentrate on determining which it was, instead focusing on the interaction he hadn't realized he needed.

“I apologize, Captain.”

“Not Captain, I'm sure. Dead guys can't be Captains.”

“You are still my Captain, Captain.”

“You're only saying that because I'm dying.” He took a deep breath, which seemed painful for him, and then turned his head to look at Spock. “Take care of her.”

“Her? I'm not sure I know to whom you are referring-”

“You know who, the Enterprise. You've got to be her captain now, Spock. Can't let just anyone take her from me.”

“You will not need someone to take her from you, Captain. We are working on a cure.”

“I know better than to hope for that, Spock.” So resigned, so ready to die, Spock couldn't help the twitch of his brows, the downturn of his lips.

“You cannot die, Kirk. You are...”

“The only friend you got. You'll have to be nicer when I'm gone. Promise me.” There was a sudden intensity in Kirk's eyes as he continued. “You have to have more than just Uhura, you two are on the outs more often than not. You need someone to be the crazy to your logic. Promise me you'll find someone.”

“Captain-”

“Promise me.”

“I promise, Captain, in the unlikely event of your demise, I will find someone to be my 'crazy.'”

“Good. That's good.” It was obvious he was coming to the end of his unexpected strength, and his eyes were once again fluttering shut. “Don't let them take her from you. She belongs with one of us, not some outsider who doesn't understand her. It has to be us. No one...” His words trailed off as he fell back into a sleep that surely wasn't as restful as it looked.

“No one else can command her, not after you have taken her so far. It has to be you, Captain Kirk. Only you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back for another chapter, and then I'll probably disappear into deep space once more. Thanks for reading, though! I'd love to hear what you have to say!


	10. Chapter 10

Bones wasn't a fan of going to the labs where most of the other blue shirts spent their time, so he was glad that Mia Carpenter was in her room, resting after the events of the ground team and recovering from the death of one of her team. She was being given as much time as she needed, since they weren't able to do anything until StarFleet made up their mind about a captain. No point pushing her to do anything until they had a mission.

Bones knocked on the door, then rested his weight against the wall opposite while he waited for her to answer. He was so tired. Keeping an eye on Spock and Kirk had been a nonstop responsibility for a while, and the fact that they technically weren't allowed to share a room made it even more difficult. Something about working up conspiracies against the United Federation or something like that. It was stupid, and that was why Bones had left the two together. Besides, it wasn't like they could do much conspiring while one of them was unconscious.

Carpenter opened the door slowly, peeking around the corner. Her eyes were red, and she was dressed in pajamas with tiny models of the Enterprise patterned all over. She looked at Bones and frowned.

“I already had my exam, sir-”

“That's not what I'm here for. Can I come in?”

She looked wary, unsure what he was asking for, debating the consequences of refusing an officer of higher rank than she.

“I just want to talk to you. But it's gotta be in private.”

She was quiet for a moment longer before she nodded, opening the door for him and backing into the room once more. Bones followed, closing the door behind him. When she frowned, he gestured towards the chair by the door, where she had a few shirts and some pants laid out.

“Do you mind if I move these to sit down?” He'd stay as far away from her as possible, because clearly this made her more uncomfortable than she should ever feel in her own space.

“Yes, please.” She sat on the edge of her bed, looking ready to bolt at the slightest provocation. Bones gently moved her clothes to the chest at the foot of the bed and sat down, almost surprised at the relief it was to be seated again. His body needed a good week off to relax, but that wouldn't be happening in the near future.

“The Captain – Kirk isn't doing so well. And he won't get any better, unless we have what was in the augmented blood from Khan.”

“I'm very sorry to hear that.” And she was – there was real sadness in her voice, not just an attempt to make Bones feel better. He supposed that shouldn't surprise him, as she had been on the ground team sent to rescue the two of them.

“I am too. But we might be able to get our hands on something that will work.”

“But... the augments were all destroyed-”

“They were. But there's a serum that they used to negate the effects in Kirk's body, and Spock... he seems to think we can pull something out of that to return it. But we have to do it soon-”

“Because it's almost completely negated, yes. And you need me to go down, because I'm familiar with the planet and I blend in.”

Bones opened his mouth to say more, and instead nodded. She picked up quickly. Good. That would make it easier.

“I would risk my entire future with StarFleet if I did this.”

“If it didn't work, or even if it did and we couldn't convince the Federation it was a necessary risk, then yes. You won't ever work for StarFleet again.”

“I can live with not working for StarFleet again. I can't live with letting the Captain die if I could do something about it. Let me get dressed, and I'll find you in the medbay, where I assume you'll be with Spock. You can brief me on what I'm looking for.”

She paused, her eyebrows raised as Bones stood completely still, processing. He'd expected to need a lot more convincing.

“I'm getting changed, Doctor, and I would rather do that in private, if you don't mind.”

“Yes. Of course. I'll be in the medbay, Spock and I will brief you when you are finished.”

She grinned. “Good. I'll meet you there.”

-

Mia Carpenter couldn't beam down to the planet as they had before, because StarFleet had demanded they withdraw to a safe distance. So instead, she had been taken to an emergency shuttle, where Bones quickly ran through the various controls (there weren't many, it being an emergency shuttle), and then she had taken off. As soon as she launched, an alarm spread through the Enterprise, warning of the emergency that must be happening for the shuttle to be leaving the ship. It was Bones' job to explain to Sulu what had happened, and soon he found himself under guard, not allowed to leave the medbay and the two patients he had to take care of. It wasn't much a punishment, and everyone on board knew it; McCoy had been spending almost all of his time with his two patients anyway, sleeping in chairs or on the floor so he could be close if something happened. It was an excuse to have both Kirk and Spock in the same room, but would look like action was taken to the higher ups. Because, secretly, everyone was glad Mia had gone to do what no one else could.

Mia landed again, oxygen and mask already situated, and took a few deep breaths before she walked back onto the planet that had not treated her or her crewmates kindly thus far. And then she stepped off of the shuttle and began the trek back to where they'd lost Jacinto Catlow. Where the Captain had been found mostly dead and Bones had almost lost his mind to the cruel device all the slaves were forced to wear.

There was no way this could go poorly.

She trekked slowly until she reached one of the very rocky outcroppings they'd used before, to spy on the human slaves. The slaves were still out there, still walking back and forth and doing their mundane jobs in their mundane clothes. It was sad, but there wasn't anything she could do about it on her own. Her job was to find the serum that had been used on the Captain and return to her shuttle. And if she got in trouble, she was on her own. With the exception of a communicator connected to one in the medbay, she had no contact with anyone on the ship, and she couldn't be beamed out if she got stuck somewhere.

This was the most terrifying thing she'd ever had to do.

As a Science Officer, she'd assumed she would end up on planets, of course, exploring them once the scouting party had deemed it safe for noncombatants. She was trained, yes, and she could aim a phaser like nobody's business, but those were skills her father had instilled in her on the off chance she ended up in a fight. Not something she'd expected to use, especially not so early in her career. And now she was _alone_ on a planet, expecting combat because she was sneaking into a known hostile alien civilization to steal something they surely kept well guarded. Her life had certainly not gone the way she'd planned.

Nor had Catlow's. But she wasn't letting herself think about that.

Upon switching of the duties, Mia crept quickly across the terrain, already dressed in clothing that would blend with these sad beings, and joined a group that was on break. They'd timed it perfectly; this was the last shift before they would all be herded inside, and then, if she was lucky, she could break free and find the serum.

The humans accepted her without question, used to the addition of others to their group with little or no ceremony. They didn't speak, from what she could tell, rather gestured and hoped others would pick up on the meaning. It was surely possible that they weren't allowed, or even that they couldn't; after all, if they'd been bred in captivity, the ability to speak could have been discouraged from birth.

She didn't want to think about how they were raised or trained or anything. While the inquisitive side of her brain wanted to know the answers, she didn't. She didn't want to get that close to them, because then she might feel the need to rescue them from their imprisonment, and she couldn't. She couldn't take the time. She had to get the serum and return to the Enterprise as soon as possible.

She made as if to brush hair out of her face, but instead pressed the small button on her communicator, hidden in her ear. “I'm here. We'll be inside soon.”

“Very good Ensign Carpenter. You remember where the storage place for the serum is likely located?” The Vulcan's voice was all business. They'd gone over where Spock was sure the serum had to be, and she had drilled it into her brain. All she had to do was break away and find it.

“I do. I'll update you when more information is available.”

“Very good.”

She stopped the communication, hunching further down to blend with the fatigued workers. Soon the noise that meant it was time to go inside surrounded them, and as one the slaves stood and began shuffling towards the cliff civilization. They'd deduced it was like a herding of sheep, used to count and make sure none were missing or damaged before letting them return to their little huts for the night. Obviously Mia wouldn't be let in easily, because of her lack of an ankle cuff, and they'd likely have higher security than when Spock had blown his way past the guards. Mia had her phaser set to kill and hidden under her loose clothes, ready to use as soon as necessary. They weren't taking any risks with stunning, not when her speed was so important to this mission.

The alarm. Spock had described it to her, and she was prepared. She bolted from the line and took off in the direction Spock said she should go.

But there were more guards further down the hall, and they stepped into her path before she could get far.

She wasn't getting past them. She turned on her communicator as she pulled her phaser out.

“Carpenter to Spock. The security's doubled.”

“If you calculate your targets, you should be able to-”

She didn't catch what he said as she started shooting. They dropped, one after the other. If she could just keep going. If she could just get out of here.  
But she couldn't leave without the serum.

“Carpenter, you are ordered to leave.” Those words, spoken into her ear as if Spock were beside her, were defeated. It must have been hard, to give up on finding the one thing that could cure the commander, but he was looking out for her safety. Maybe he'd argued with Dr. McCoy about it. Maybe he had known from the start he would have to call it if she was in danger. But she couldn't handle that kind of brokenness in the Vulcan.

“Sir-”

“Carpenter.”

“Sir, you can't order me.”

What had she done? What had she said? She could have gotten out and been in the clear, she could have left with a clean conscience because she'd been ordered out. Instead, she aimed, put down all of the aliens immediately around her, and ran.

She got around the corner before a shock pulsed through her body, landing her on the floor.

-

Spock and Bones listened as the communicator was fried. And both men were absolutely still for a few seconds, processing what they'd just done.

“She did not leave.” The surprise in Spock's voice would have been a joy for Bones to hear any other time. But now, in the wake of a missing crewmate, a girl that Bones himself had convinced to walk into danger, there was no joy.

“She's too much like the rest of us in that way.” Bones' voice was quiet, contemplating the horror they'd just subjected the poor girl to. “Couldn't be part of the Enterprise crew if she wasn't stubborn.”

“I resent that.” Kirk's voice. Both men turned towards the Captain, who had a frown on his face. It wasn't surprising that he'd be awake; he seemed to wake up to defend his honor, and minutes later he'd be back in the depths of dreams or nightmares.

“And yet you cannot argue its truth.” Spock's voice was warm for Kirk, who hardly seemed to notice anymore. But that was fairly standard for, anyway, dying or not.

“Yeah, shut up.” It was a mutter as he fell back to sleep, his face picking up the frown it wore in his deepest, darkest nightmares.

Bones stood and paced for a few minutes in the limited space before turning to Spock.

“Well shit. What do we do now?”

And for once, Spock didn't have an answer.

 


	11. Chapter 11

With a heavy sigh, Ensign Mia Carpenter settled in on the hard dirt floor of the hut she'd been assigned. The bed she'd been offered was infested with bedbugs, and she felt horrible taking it from the hollow eyed little boy who'd offered. Besides, with the hard metal cuff on her ankle and the oxygen mask strapped to her face, she wouldn't be sleeping very well anyway. Might as well not take the small comfort from the boy who had little else.

Surely someone would come for her. They wouldn't just leave her to rot in this sorry excuse for a civilization. And she could last for a little while doing hard labor. She wasn't some white lily grown in a vase, untouched by the real world. She was the daughter of a farmer. This was nothing.

She hoped.

She hadn't been exposed to the labor they actually did yet. And she didn't know if this planet's atmosphere would impact the difficulty of the work. It didn't seem that much different than what she was used to, but without tools to tell her for sure... she didn't want to be surprised, but she didn't have a whole lot of choice.

One of the women snored. Another talked in her sleep, all night, and sometimes it wasn't quiet. Sometimes it was full on yelling, and yet no one else seemed at all bothered by it. They were used to it, it seemed. Mia was not. So she laid awake most of the night, dying to go for a late night walk but knowing the ankle cuff would shock her brains out if she stepped one toe out of the invisible boundary. And when morning finally came, she knew the day wasn't going to go well for her.

She woke to an old woman standing over her, a syringe in hand and a defeated look on her face. “Come, sweetheart, time morning injection.”

Mia scrambled backwards, sliding across the dirt and hitting one of the bunked beds hard. “Stay away from me.” She snarled, her hand looking for a phaser that wasn't there.

"Must have injection, sweetheart." The way the woman said the word, with every letter perfectly enunciated and hard, made it sound like a less than sweet word, and it made Mia even more anxious. She'd thought of these people as slaves, but perhaps they were just playing the part. Maybe they were more sinister than they had seemed.

"I don't need it, and I warn you, I'm skilled at hand to hand combat, and... and Starfleet is coming for me, and if you do anything-"

"You do not have injection, they do not let you live." So matter of fact, as if it was normal to be threatened with unknown injection or death. Both of which could end in death.

"What is it?" Maybe they would tell her. Maybe they knew. Maybe it wouldn't be something that would turn her into a mindless slave like some of these seemed to be. Or maybe the effects would at least wear off, given time. Maybe if she submitted to it now, eventually she could return to herself.

"Keeps air from changing you. Keep you weak. Easy to control. Must take, or they kill."

Mia frowned. "The air..."

"Changes. Makes strong. Fast. Like the large ones."

Mia's frown deepened. “If I don't...”

“They kill.”

“I know, but if I don't... I'll get stronger?”

“Strong. Fast. But they kill you.”

She didn't know these people. She still didn't trust this injection, or the things this old lady who only had a stunted idea of what English was supposed to be. But on the off chance that this was the serum they'd given the Captain, and that these people didn't want to be slaves to 'the large ones' anymore than Mia did...

“Can you pretend?”

“Pretend?” The woman tilted her head like a confused dog, her eyebrows furrowing.

“Do they do a blood scan for it, or is it just the little prick? I suppose that's an important bit of information, because obviously I can't replicate it without any equipment or anything. But if they don't look very closely – and let's face it, their technology doesn't seem all that advanced, for all their signal blocking abilities and general largeness. They're living in a rock, for heaven's sake.”

The old woman and the others, who were rising from their beds, getting dressed, and doing various other activities to get ready for the day, were staring at her, wondering what nonsense the girl was spouting.

“Check neck, make sure, no blood. Just hole.” The old woman must have more knowledge of English than the others, who still looked like they didn't understand what was happening. Although Mia was sure the old woman had only gotten the barest gist of what she was talking about.

That was fine. That's all she needed. She could work with that.

“So can you just... poke me?”

“They kill.”

“Yes yes, I know, but if you poke me then it'll look like... but I won't be affected, see? So I can get you all out of here once I get back to my ship and tell them... But instead you could give me the serum in there, and I could take it back, and I'll get you all out of here so you can live real lives and not be slaves anymore, you see? Do you understand?”

“Get... out?”

“Yes, you won't have to be slaves anymore, my Captain won't... he's sick, but he won't let you stay here as slaves. He'll help you. He'll make sure you're free.” If it's the last thing he does. She hated herself for thinking that. Once she got the serum, he'd be fine. They'd reverse the reversal and he'd be fine and everything would go back to the way it was.

“We... most born here. Do not know free. It is good?”

“It's... yes. It is good.”

The old woman nodded once, her eyes set. “Then we help. I Tierney. Once free. Do not remember. Help you. We be free.”

And without warning, she jabbed the needle into Mia's neck, not pressing the plunger before pulling it out. Then she pulled the cartridge containing the fluid out and put it under the boy's mattress, the one that was supposed to be hers.

“You will be strong.”

-

It was when the official officers came to seize the ship for the Federation that things really started to go south.

The first thing they'd done is replace Sulu with some hulking, detail-oriented tyrant whose first order of business was to leave the planet, hopefully leaving Bones, Spock, and the mostly dead former Captain Kirk among the hostiles they'd just escaped. Only because Starfleet refused to leave one of the few Vulcans and a star Medical Officer behind was that notion refused, and the medbay effectively became a prison. There were guards stationed outside the doors, and while they were friends of the three captives, they had to keep their careers in mind. So they only had the barest conversations with the two men who were able to speak, and asked about the third only when it seemed he was about gone.

Bones stuck a hypo in Kirk's neck, injecting him with medication that slowed down his bodily systems in the hopes that he'd last just long enough for Carpenter to return. Which had better be soon, or she wasn't going home with them, and Kirk wasn't going to see her ever again.

"This'll kill the kid worse than the radiation, if we keep him on it too long." Bones muttered, sitting back down. They didn't have access to anything better, though. He rubbed a hand across his face as if he could wipe away the heavy bags under his eyes and the tired lines around his mouth. 

"We do not have a choice." Spock's voice was quiet, saying exactly what was going through McCoy's head. 

"He's gotta be alive to defend his honor against those federations idiots." Bones muttered, watching Kirk's still face. He didn't wake when they questioned him anymore, because he couldn't. Not in the coma he was forced into.

"We may have to do so for him." Spock's voice was stronger with those words. Spock would do well at defending the Captain logically, but Kirk had a certain charisma to him, a certain devil may care attitude that either charmed the higher ups into doing what he wanted, or made them so angry that they gave him a chance in the hopes that he would fail. Logic would only get them so far, and it was easy to disregard some facts in light of others.

"Yeah. We may." But it would be infinitely better if they didn't. If Kirk could do it for himself.

The door opened quietly, and both Spock and Bones looked up from their respective resting places. Chekov stood just inside, the door closing behind him. 

"How is ze Keptin?" His voice was quiet, lacking the energetic edge it usually held.

"It's not good. What's the Tyrant doing?"

"He iz in ze process of getting ze ship ready to leave."

"The Enterprise does not require a pre-departure check." Spock's voice was slightly confused, hinting at the question, 'What's wrong with the Captain's baby?'

"She is missing some key parts." There was a devilish grin on Chekov's face as he pulled a small piece of metal out of his pocket. Bones had absolutely no idea what it was, but Spock's eyes lit up with what could almost be described as glee. "I don't think it belongs in ze medbay."

“What is it?” Bones muttered, although the glee of the other two was catching. If they couldn't go anywhere, they couldn't leave Carpenter behind. And if she had more time to get to them, maybe...

But she'd still have to move quickly. As if they had the same thought, they all turned to look at the captain. It was as if he was a different person, without his command gold and lying thin among the white bedding.

“It will keep the ship from leaving, Doctor. That is the important thing.”

“Right. Just don't get caught, kid, or you'll be stuck in here with us.”

“I will not be caught.” The determination in his voice convinced them all of his intention to remain an unknown traitor to the Tyrant, but his chest deflated shortly after. “But I will be questioned for my absence. I must go.”

The Russian paused as he looked at the Captain one more time before scurrying away. He had appearances to keep up, and he could only be gone from the bridge for so long before an investigation would be launched on him. The Tyrant ran a tight ship. A suffocating ship. And Chekov was still under suspicion, because apparently being young meant he was infinitely more impressionable and more likely to throw his loyalty to Kirk.

Of course, his loyalty was to Kirk, but his age had nothing to do with that.

“C'mon Spock, it's time for your checkup.” Bones sighed heavily as he stood from the chair in the corner, his favorite spot now that he wasn't allowed to go to his own bed. Spock laid obediently in his bed, taking the deepest breaths he could without causing undue pain as he did every time Bones pulled out the scanner. And like every other time for the past few days, Bones muttered that there was some improvement, that the healing was going better and faster than expected, and that Spock should be able to get up in a week or so, for extremely limited times. And then they both returned to their positions, Bones in his chair and Spock propped up in his bed, and waited for the next visit from their spy.  
Their lives had suddenly gotten very dull and very stressful all at once, and Bones, for one, was not a fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your lovely comments! I hope you'll continue to enjoy my writing, and I hope I continue to have muse so you can do so. This is a slightly shorter chapter, but it was a good place to end it. Thanks for reading!


	12. Chapter 12

Chekov hurried back to his post on the bridge. He should have stopped at the bathroom on his designated break, but it was too late for that now. Besides, seeing the Captain seemed much more important than relieving himself of mild discomfort. The complete turnover of their lives put the small things in perspective. He'd have to wait the designated hour and a half until his next break to free himself of the excess liquid in his bladder. He could probably make it that long. He hoped.

The Tyrant wasn't on the bridge when he arrived, so he quickly slipped into his seat and started doing his job, muttering quietly with Sulu next to him. They had become closer than ever before after the events that had left Kirk imprisoned in the Medbay and a cruel overlord telling them how to do their job, and they were also at the forefront of the mission to save the Enterprise... as much as they could do, anyway, with their freetime scheduled into specific duties and their lives monitored at all times.

When he came on the bridge, there was a forced murmur of welcome from the crew who really didn't want him there. He nodded, accepting the welcome, before going to Kirk's chair and sitting down, where he could watch everyone and what they were doing. And it was only a few minutes of silence before he said quietly, in his usually booming deep voice, “Chekov. Where did you go on your break?”

“I used ze restroom, sir. Keptin.” It was impossible for Chekov to call this man – Briggs, his name was – captain, at least the first time around. He scolded himself silently, because he'd seen others get in trouble for less than referring to the brutal captain as sir.

“I don't believe you did. In fact, I've had word that you went to visit the Medbay.”

Checkov shook his head, unable to look at the man who was accusing him of what was considered a treasonous offense around the Enterprise at the moment. “Sir, I passed by, just to make sure zey veren't-”

“Weren't what?” His voice was hard, still quiet, and Chekov knew. And from the stiff way Sulu was forcing himself not to look, to do his job and not give away his involvement as well, the boy knew he was discovered. And soon he'd be in a cell, while Briggs decided how best to punish him.

“I was making sure zey weren't plotting to escape, sir. Just quickly so-”

“So you could be back here to do your job on time. Congratulations Chekov, you're here on time. And I trust there wasn't any plotting happening on my ship?”

“No sir. Zey appear to be behaving zemselves.”

“Good. Carry on.”

Chekov had to work hard not to let his shoulders sag with relief. It could still be coming, he had to remind himself. He could be sparing the boy to avoid further trials with the rest of the crew. He wasn't in the clear yet.

They were supposed to be figuring out what was wrong with the ship, although everyone on the bridge knew it wasn't something on their end. But for the sake of normalcy, they were stuck here as if it was, as if they could do something.

Chekov somehow got through the day and made it to his room, where he would be locked until it was time for him to rise for a communal breakfast and workout before going back to the bridge to do it all over again. He couldn't hope hard enough that nothing changed before the missing Ensign could return, and Kirk could get back on his feet again.

Somehow, Kirk's getting better was synonymous with everything returning to the way it should be, even though they all knew there would be a fight for the Enterprise once the Captain was well enough to do so.

-

Mia was sweating buckets by the time they finished the days work, and it wasn't helping that she had a mask blowing warm air on her face. Every part of her body was sore, and she was just ready to lay down and sleep. But first they were given a strange, gruel type mixture that was apparently nutritious and forced to find ways to eat it while also breathing through the mask. It was a struggle that Mia realy didn't want to deal with, but when she tried to just lay down she was forced back up by the old woman.

“Must eat. Keep strength. Grow strong. Free.” The strange, eclectic mixture of words made perfect sense to Mia after a day of listening to it. Heck, it almost seemed normal to ignore full sentences in favor of the more to the point phrases and words.

So she watched the maneuver of mask and crude wooden spoon and copied it, forcing herself to swallow the horribly textured slop. At least there was no taste to it. She didn't think she could handle bad taste as well.

When she was finished eating, Mia was prepared to go to sleep, finally released from all obligations, but, as it turned out, they had a sort of story time after the meal. One of the boys, who Mia hadn't yet met but had seen around, stood up in the middle of their little hut and started speaking. It wasn't English, so Mia was at a loss regarding the nature of the story. But the way this boy told it, the enthusiasm in his voice and the expressions crossing across his face like water, easily, naturally... it was just as fun to watch him as it probably was to understand. This lasted through several of the members of their small community, each as enthusiastic and fun to watch as the last. There was much laughter, smiles that seemed wrong on the faces of these sad looking creatures. But she found herself caught up in the merriment, and when it was finally time for the stories to stop and sleep to begin, Mia found herself disappointed.

She slept heavily that night, and dreamed of a world where these people weren't the sad, despondent creatures they seemed, but the joyful people who told stories to fill the world with laughter.

When she woke up in the morning, it was the same routine; a needle prick in the neck, a serum hidden under the mattress, the same gruel for breakfast, a once over by the overlords, and then to work for the day. Again the stories at night, accompanied by the same old gruel, and dreams of better places. Over and over again. And Mia was growing tired of the monotony, as well as fearful for her captain's state. He could very well be dead, and she wouldn't know because she was stuck in this goofy civilization where the people let themselves be slaves.

She could only hope the lack of serum she received would allow her to flee, and soon, or she might have nothing to flee to. After all, Starfleet had been pretty clear about their orders to stay on board the ship, something she'd already disobeyed once. She could say the first time was under orders, that she'd had no choice, but this was completely voluntary, and no one would be convinced otherwise. They could leave without her and justify it by saying she was a traitor.

If Kirk was well, he could probably get her out of it. But a lot was resting on him being well enough to speak for himself, she was sure, and that couldn't happen unless she got back.

She breathed a heavy sigh as she continued eating the gruel, wishing she was anywhere else, imagining it was at least a flavored oatmeal instead of the cold reality.

And then her spoon shattered in her hand.

She frowned, staring at the broken pieces on the ground and attempting to figure out what had happened. And then shame flooded through her, hoping they wouldn't be angry that she'd broken one of their few eating utensils. But when she looked up, there was nothing but shock on most of the faces, and a smile on the lips of the old woman.

“You ready. You strong. You go to ship.” She shuffled over to the mattress and pulled the vials from their hiding place; six in all. Six days she'd been here.

“When?”

“Tonight. You go tonight. You go when large ones not looking. You free. Free us.”

There were nods all around her. And despite her desire to escape this place as soon as possible, she argued.

“We don't know that yet; I don't feel any stronger, so we can't be sure I am. And I certainly don't feel any faster than I used to be, which you said was one of the side effects of the atmosphere here. I think I should probably wait a couple more days, make sure everything's up to snuff before I go charging out of here. I don't want to get caught by the guards, after all, and get put in some deeper, darker cell, or end up dead, even. I-”

“You go now. Or don't go.”

“Is that a threat?”

The old woman shook her head impatiently. “Can always wait for stronger. You here before. You here days before. That too. You much stronger. Can't wait until ready. Never ready. Must go.”

Mia nodded. She had been exposed to this atmosphere before. And she honestly felt good before, like all the times she said she'd worked out, she actually had, and she had muscle to show for it. She hadn't consciously put it down to being stronger then, just as she didn't feel any stronger now; but the shattered wooden spoon at her feet told her that she must be.

She could wait for days, but it wouldn't help her courage get on her physical level. So she nodded and stood.

“Where do I go?”

The old woman smiled, her grin full of teeth that seemed too perfect for the lack of dental on the planet. “I show. You free. We free.”

–

The only time Nyota Uhura wasn't watched was when she was in the bathroom. Because that would be going just a little too far.

It didn't matter how she tried to convince them she and Spock had broken up, they wouldn't believe her. They didn't believe that her loyalties were severed from the Vulcan, and they certainly had no reason to believe she wouldn't be devoted to the Captain.

Of course, there was a reason for that. She and Spock were – for once – not fighting when he arrived back on the Enterprise, and Kirk would always command her loyalty, even if she gave him sass every once in a while. Gotta keep the man on his toes.

So it was in the bathroom, on her sparse breaks, that she was working on the communicator. Mia, in theory, had one attached to her suit when she went to the planet, but they hadn't been able to get in touch with her since she landed. It was possible that something had fried the communicator, or there were blocks around the ship so the Tyrant knew they weren't conducting business with anyone they shouldn't be. But Nyota was convinced it was something on their end, and Spock had agreed that it couldn't hurt to try. Well, it could. She could get thrown in one of the cells on the brig, but only if they caught her. And they'd have to enter the women's restroom while she was working to catch her. She was careful not to have any contact with the prisoners right now, which was beyond painful. They couldn't have too many people, though, and Chekov was the least suspicious of the small group that was actively working against the Tyrant. The fewer, the better. So she was dying inside as she waited for news of her on again, off again boyfriend and her friends.

She muted a curse when she shocked herself on one of the components. Damn it, she only had a few minutes left, but she felt like she was so close. If she could just-

There. There was a crackle, which she wanted to curse about as well. Any unnecessary noise and they might decide they had to monitor the bathrooms as well. And not only would that be gross and awkward, it would ruin their chances of getting in touch with their lost ensign, their last hope.

After pausing a few seconds to make sure no one was coming in, she moved to the far wall, put the communicator close to her face, and whispered, “Ensign Carpenter, are you there? Do you read me?”

Silence. Nyota waited a few seconds before sighing heavily. Something must still be wrong, then. She hurriedly wrapped the thing in the plastic she'd scavenged and put it back in it's hiding spot; the drain in the far shower that only worked half the time, anyway. It was the best place right now, although the easy to pop off drain cover didn't really convince her that someone else wouldn't find it.

She left the bathroom, joining her escort back to her spot on the bridge.

A few minutes later, the door opened to admit the next slated woman to get a break. Carol Marcus entered, tired and just ready for a shower, when she heard the crackling call. With a frown, she took the few steps towards the last shower, and noticed the plastic sticking out from the drain.

With a grin, she pulled the communicator out and listened as Ensign Mia Carpenter let them know she was alive, and she was on her way. Of course they'd been working on this. Marcus wasn't even hurt that she hadn't been included in the mission to get Kirk back. She was just glad she was the one who'd discovered the now working communicator, instead of one of those whose loyalties had switched to the most favorable prospect.

Now she just had to get it in the right hands to save the Captain. Without getting caught.

 


	13. Chapter 13

Apparently the 'large ones' were used to their slaves doing as they were told, because the two guards they had on duty were asleep on the job.

They were leaning against the platform in the middle of the village of huts, both with eyes closed and heads bowed. She could hear the heavy breaths as they slept, could practically see the dreams running through their minds. So it was no problem to sneak out of the hut she occupied and make her way towards her ship. Near silently, still, because she was terrified to wake them and be thrown somewhere dark and damp and sealed off from the rest of the world. That couldn't happen.

She was at the edge of the camp when she heard the alarm sound.

They weren't as trusting as they had seemed. Soon she heard the two guards clicking at each other, rather loudly to be heard from this distance and over the blaring of the alarm. She picked up her speed, hoping she was going in the right direction, and not running farther into what had appeared to be an expanse of nothing. The landscape around her flew, and with a jolt she realized she really was faster. Much faster. And when she pushed herself for more, it came, easily. She couldn't help the gleeful smile as the wind whipped her face and made her eyes stream with tears. She could do this. She could. She was ready.

She'd have to return to save the people who had helped her.

But she pushed that thought aside as the blinding shot of a phaser flew past her, barely missing her right shoulder. She just had to make it to her ship, get it up and moving. Get back to the Enterprise. Save the Captain. She could do it.

Another shot. This one was too close, she could feel the heat as it passed her ear. She put her head down and pushed her body more, feeling her lungs scream as she panted. The adrenaline was helping, but there was still only so far she could push herself. And she had no idea how far that was, with the atmospheric changes in her body.

She pushed herself harder. She couldn't be caught. To hell with the damage to her own body, she could be healed. A dead Kirk could not.

She felt it as something snapped in her calf. She kept going. The pain was making her whole body tense, but she couldn't stop. Because her ship had just become visible over a bluff, and she had to make it there and get it up before they could catch her. So she went faster, but the feeling in her body was pure agony. It was fire up her legs and in her lungs. Just to the door. Just a few more steps. Just get inside, get the ship in the air, and she'd be out of their reach. Then she could move on to other problems.

She heard a crackling in the ear piece she'd forgotten she had, that had been hidden in her ear so the natives had completely missed it. She couldn't respond to the voice, could hardly understand what was being said. And the excitement she would have felt before was drowned out by the fire that was consuming her.

She slammed against the metal of the small shuttle, her hands making imprints as she did and her wrists howling in agony. But she slammed the door open, closed it just as a shot flew past her and embedded itself in the opposite wall. The controls. Just get to the controls.

She heard them outside, attempting to open the door that she'd locked from the inside. And she prayed to whatever powers be that the shuttle would start up as it was supposed to, that it wouldn't be stuck.

Relief flooded her as she heard the purr of the engine, felt the slight vibration under her feet. And one more button and it shot upwards, away from the two creatures that had followed her.

She sank into the chair, every part of her body protesting, screaming in agony, but she was alive. And with a few more buttons, a few more levers, she was orbiting the small planet.

The small medkit on the shuttle couldn't possibly cure all the damage she'd done to herself, but it was a start. And once she at least had her legs bound in bandage and a splint on her wrist, she laid on the floor of the shuttle. Her breathing still hadn't slowed from the frantic panting, which was concerning. But Dr. McCoy could figure out what was going on with her once she was back on the Enterprise. Her concern had to be getting there with the serum. A panicked search found all six little containers still resting in the pocket of her pants, safe and sound.

She let herself set for a while, just letting her body readjust itself from the adrenaline fueled race of moments ago. And then she remembered the communicator.

It was an effort to lift her arms, but she did so, pressing against her ear to hit the button for the communicator. And in a quiet voice, surprisingly strained, she asked, "Is anyone still there? This is Ensign Mia Carpenter. I'm aboard my shuttle. I'm not sure how much fuel I've got left, but I'm going to try to make it back."

She stopped the communication, laying back in the chair in the hopes that someone would get in touch with her before she started the trip to the Enterprise. She could float in orbit indefinitely, but once she chose to leave, she had to make it or be lost.

But after a few minutes of silence, she decided it was time. She used the navigation panel to figure out where she'd last seen the Enterprise, and then she started moving.

She jumped when she heard a voice crackling in her ear.

"Ensign Carpenter? Are you there? Are you alive?" She recognized that voice; Carol Marcus, another science officer.

“Lieutenant!” Her voice was a little too excited, and the accompanying jump forward in her seat caused her to hiss in pain. But someone was there. Someone had her back.

“Carpenter, are you alright?” Concern.

“I overdid it, I think, that's all.” The understatement of the century, but it didn't make any sense to concern the officer before she could do anything. Besides, that was small talk that she didn't have time for. “Lieutenant, has the Enterprise moved at all?” If she was going the wrong direction, she needed to correct it _now_ , or she wasn't getting back. These shuttles were meant to get people off of a non-functional ship and to the nearest planet. They were never intended to make a return trip, and getting out of the atmosphere alone had burned a lot of fuel.

“The Tyrant – excuse me, Captain Briggs – has been trying to, but he's run into sabotage.”

Mia wanted to ask who Briggs was, but her brain ran faster than her mouth. Of course, a replacement for the downed Captain. Because apparently Spock wasn't good enough in his state. Or Sulu. She frowned, wondering what had happened up there, but now wasn't the time to ask.

“So if I have enough fuel – which I doubt – I should reach you in an hour or so. Can you be there to let me in?”

“How much fuel do you have?”

Mia looked doubtfully at the console that displayed the fuel guage. “Less than a quarter of the tank.” It had been full when she'd left the first time. Unless this gave a bad reading... She wasn't making it back.

“Then just don't move anymore. Let me... I'll get back in touch with you shortly. Stay where you are.” And then the communication crackled to an end, leaving Mia hoping her kind of friend had a better plan than she did at the moment.

-

In the days that had passed while Mia Carpenter was on planet, Spock had gotten better, Kirk had gotten worse, and Bones was bored out of his freaking mind.

There wasn't anything he could do for Kirk, except keep giving him the injections that slowed his body down to near death. Spock was up and about, kind of; he could walk around for a half hour, at the most, before he needed to return to his bed and catch his breath. But every time he could, he was up, pacing circles in the floor as he tried to come up with a plan, something they could do from the confines of the medbay. And every time he came up with nothing, and had to go back to his bed gasping in pain because he wouldn't listen to the doctor's orders.

“Spock, sit down.” It was a tired argument by this point. Spock had been pacing for 27 minutes exactly, and he was having a hard time continuing.

“Movement is imperative to the thought process, Doctor.”

“And being alive is also pretty damn important.” But there wasn't anger in the words anymore. There couldn't be, because he was so tired of the argument. He was so tired of being helpless.

“If we could just get out of here - “

“And do what? Run around until we get caught again? There's nothing we can do until everyone's up to snuff and ready, like I've said a thousand times before. And we can't get out of here unless our guard lets us. Which they haven't been inclined to do thus far. So sit down and rest for an hour, then you can do it all over again.”

Spock sighed, nodded, and hobbled over to the bed. Which was mildly surprising to Bones, who had expected more fight out of the Vulcan. But, then again, there were only so many times they could have the same argument.

Bones felt his gaze drift to the lone window in the medbay, where space twinkled like the sky on Earth. He knew the stars were more than the twinkling, pretty things that his mother had told him once upon a time, that they weren't ancestors or past kings as movies had tried to insist. He lived in space, for crying out loud, he knew better. But it was still comforting to think of them as such. To believe they were harmless things, meant to watch over and protect, to decorate an otherwise bland night sky. And if he stared long enough, it was easy to forget his life. Forget all the awful, all the adventure, everything that space had brought to him, and pretend once more...

“Doctor.” Spock's voice brought him back to the Enterprise again. He shook his head and looked at the Vulcan, who was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed across his chest. “I believe something is happening.”

And when Bones pulled his mind completely back to the present and looked out the door, he could see people running. Mostly they were people who were loyal to the Tyrant, if only because they had too much to lose otherwise. After all, disobeying a Starfleet appointed officer could lose them their careers, and none of the rebels aboard the ship could feel any resentment towards those. A few had never liked Kirk or the way he commanded his ship, and they weren't going to remain on the crew once everything was back to normal, no one had any doubt. But there was Chekov, and instead of running with the rest he slipped into the Medbay with a grin on his face.

“She is back. Carpenter is back.”

Bones grinned at Chekov before his eyes went to Kirk. “Just a little longer, kid. Just stay with us a little longer, and I'll get you back up and going.” And then he returned his attention to Chekov.

Spock spoke before Bones could. “The Tyrant will put her under arrest. You must get the serum from her, and get it back here. As quickly as possible.”

“Yessir.” Chekov saluted and ran back into the flow of people.

Bones and Spock looked at each other, feeling the relief resting around their shoulders like a blanket.

“We will save him, Doctor. We will get the Enterprise back.” Spock paused, watching the doors. “We have to.”

Those last three words held more emotion than McCoy had ever heard from the Vulcan, and they were probably the most motivating three words he'd ever heard.

-

As soon as she'd stopped speaking with Mia in her bedroom, Carol Marcus had hesitantly pulled the door of her room open and peeked out. There weren't any guards, because they thought her door was locked, and she couldn't leave until they came to get her. What they didn't know is the lock was broken a long time ago in a particularly rambunctious night with Kirk, and maintenance had been too busy to fix it.

The memory hurt a little, knowing the most rambunctious thing Kirk could do at the moment was die, but she didn't let herself think about that. Because if she was successful, they could save him. She just had to keep telling herself that. They could still save him.

She crept down the hallway, making her way to the Transporter room. The Tyrant truly didn't have many guards here. He just had control of the ship, and Starfleet's backing. If not for that, he wouldn't have anything. If people weren't afraid of being blacklisted, they would have kicked him off the ship a long time ago without a second thought.

Scotty was sleeping at the console, probably because Engineering had become a permanently loud, moving place. After all, they had to find the missing part of the Enterprise to get her going, and no one was supposed to rest until they found it. Clearly Scotty wasn't concerned about that. Which was fortunate for the science officer.

“Scotty. Wake up.” There wasn't time to be polite, so she shook him and stepped back as he flailed to wakefulness. He frowned when he saw Marcus in front of him, her hands on her hips. But before he could say anything, she informed him, “I need you to beam Ensign Mia Carpenter aboard. Now.”

“She's... Ye know very well I cannae beam 'er up from the planet-”

“Then it's a good job she's not on the planet. She's in the escape shuttle, can you locate it?”

Scotty rolled his eyes as he turned to the console. “Can I locate it?” His voice was a falsetto as he began punching in commands, and soon enough he'd found the shuttle and the small blip of person that was the Ensign.

Marcus pulled out the communicator. “Beaming you up, Carpenter. Do you have what you went down for?”

A pause, and then “Yes ma'am.”

“Good. Standby.”

At that moment, Scotty pressed the button, and soon she appeared in front of them in a beam of light. And then the alarm started going off.

“Quickly, let's go.” Marcus barely made it to the woman before her legs gave out and she cried in pain. But she pulled the serum out of a pocket and pressed it into Marcus' hands as soon as she was on the floor.

“Get this to him.” She said quietly.

“Of course.” She was able to take the few steps to Scotty and hand off the serum before guards poured into the room. And in moments, she was handcuffed, as was the poor, injured Carpenter, and they were hauled off to cells in the brig.

Scotty wiped a hand across his forehead, where sweat had beaded with the thrill of it all.

“Well damn.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! It's getting there!


	14. Chapter 14

Chekov arrived in the Transporter room to find no sign of Ensign Carpenter, or even of the supposed traitor Lieutenant Carol Marcus. The only ones who lingered were other members of the crew who had also arrived too late to see the action. Scotty sat at his desk, his fingers playing with something in small, a container of sorts... his eyes met the Russian's, and the information passed silently between them. So Chekov went to talk quietly with one of the others of the crew, a redshirt he'd befriended in his brief time down in engineering, while the room slowly cleared. Eventually, the redshirt - who was named Bran - made his apologies and scooted off to his post, leaving just Scotty and Chekov in the room.

"You have it?" Chekov's voice was quiet as he stood next to the man. This was the closest he ever got to mutiny, and it was strangely exhilarating. It would be fun, if there weren't lives at stake.

"Aye. Marcus passed it off to meh before she was arrested." And without any more words, he passed the tubes of serum over to Chekov, who tucked them away in his pocket. "Get 'em to Bones fast."

"Yessir." Chekov took off immediately, hoping he could pass this absence off on the excitement of the arrest. Because otherwise he'd be joining Marcus and Carpenter in the brig, no doubt.

Bones practically flew from his chair as Chekov entered, his face full of hope that was ready to be crushed, should Chekov have bad news. Spock was harder to read, but there was a glint of that same hope in his eyes, and he slowly, hesitantly stood and followed Bones.

"Did you get it?"

"Yessir." He produced the six little vials, and Bones grabbed them so quickly Chekov barely had time to figure out what was happening. He scurried away to his little in house lab, pulling one of the vials open and beginning all the science-y things he would do to produce a cure for the Captain. Spock, on the other hand, set a surprisingly solid hand on Chekov's shoulder and said a quiet, "Thank you."

"I really didn't do anysing, sir, it was ze Ensign Carpenter and Lieutenant Marcus-"

"Thank you." He said once more, before he went to the table Bones was already working at and offered his advice. Chekov watched the two at work, dreading his return to the bridge. But it had to happen sometime. And now everything that he could do for the Captain was already done, so he supposed going to the brig wasn't the worst thing that could happen to him.

A heavy sigh before he straightened his spine and made his way proudly to the bridge, ready to face whatever punishment awaited him.

When he arrived, it wasn't exactly surprising that he was immediately handcuffed by the two guards that stood on either side of the entrance. Sulu glanced at him, saw the action, and made as encouraging a face as he could before he returned to his work. He was the last one on the bridge who was actively involved in the rebellion. He couldn't be connected to Chekov.

"You've disobeyed your orders, Chekov. Do you understand that?"

In a moment of brave heroism, or perhaps just loyal idiocy, Pavel puffed up his chest and said proudly, "I apologize, sir, but I have not. My captain did not order me to be a traitor."

That earned him a nice punch in the side, which made his feet give out beneath him. Sulu did his best not to get up and defend the younger man, but his entire body tensed at the surprised "Oof" as Chekov was hit. When he heard another thud and Chekov's whimper, he stood and turned towards the Captain. "Sir. Physically punishing a crew member for disobedience is against Starfleet regulation."

"Excuse me, Mr. Sulu?"

"You heard me, Captain. Chekov should be escorted to the brig, where he will be able to think on his crimes. But physical violence is frowned upon."

Briggs stared hard at Sulu, his eyes contemplative as he took in Sulu's stance, his expression, the tone of his voice. And once he'd decided he was satisfied, he nodded. "Thank you for the reminder, Sulu. He will be escorted to his new home, until we arrive at Starfleet and I can do away with the undisciplined members of Kirk's crew."

"Yes sir. Thank you sir."

Briggs nodded at the two guards, who dragged Chekov away like the worst of war criminals, not the innocent boy that he was. Sulu sat down at his post, staring straight ahead and focusing intently on not letting his breathing speed or his face show the fear he had for his friends, all of them.

-

"If you would please just let me in to see her, I could make sure she doesn't need medical attention. We're both prisoners, it's not like locking us up together is going to-"

"I can't, Lieutenant. I'm sorry."

The guard did seem sorry. He looked miserable, in fact, standing at his post. This was clearly not something he wanted to be doing, and the fact that Carpenter was in her cell, out cold because of the pain from being drug to the brig, wasn't setting well with him. But Carol couldn't figure out how to play that the right way to allow them in the cell together.

"She could be seriously injured, and it's against Starfleet regulation to allow a prisoner to be in that much pain, especially a member of Starfleet." That was probably true. It would make sense, anyway. And she doubted this guard was any more well-read on these matters than she was.

"But Briggs-"

"The Tyrant doesn't care much for regulation, from what I've seen. Which will get him in trouble, but you don't have to be included in that group. You can do the right thing."

"If I end up in a cell like you, you'll be just as out of luck. It doesn't do anyone any good for me to break rules."

"It doesn't do anyone any good to follow rules, either, if we're honest."

"I can't, Lieutenant."

"Of course not, because you have no spine." But she sighed and stopped asking, because clearly she was going about it all wrong. "Carpenter, you awake yet?"

When she was met with only silence, she sighed again. She couldn't even see the girl, stuck in a cell beside her. The glass wall only let her see the guard, leaning against the wall opposite her, and the three cells directly across from her, empty at the moment. She had no doubt there'd be more coming in soon, judging by the way things were going.

And as she thought it, the footsteps became audible coming towards their cell block. She scooted a little closer to the glass wall, watching to see who else was unfortunate enough to get on the Tyrant's bad side.

The gasp as she saw them dragging Chekov couldn't be stopped. The guard had a similar reaction.

The boy already had a black eye forming, and the swelling had started on the left side of his face. He hung limply between two guards, his head lolling. There seemed to be more bruising disappearing under his shirt, and his lip was bloodied.

Carol stood and leaned against the glass, watching as they set him gently in his cell. One of the new guards had a look of intense regret, looking at the boy. The other seemed entirely unaffected, but Carol was fairly certain this was one of the few who had come with the Tyrant. He had the same entitled demeanor about him, and the fact that he cared so little that dear Chekov was unconscious because of what was surely an unasked for beating...

The guard who'd been standing by with them looked as distraught as Carol, if not moreso. And as soon as the door was closed and the guards had left, he went over to see the boy.

"How is he? How badly did they...?"

"Promise me you won't try to run off." He said quietly, turning to look at her with ghosts in his eyes.

"Of course."

And without another word, he went to her cell and punched in the code to let her out, and then opened Chekov's cell as well.

"Thank you."

"You can go see to Carpenter once you're satisfied the little guy's okay." His voce was gruff, taking back his earlier rejection with a little trepidation. "Just let me know if you need anything."

"Thank you so much."

"The name's Corey Willard. Pleasure."

"Carol Marcus." He already knew that, but she wasn't sure what etiquette demanded with her jailer. So she hurried to the Russian and began running her fingers softly over the bruises, taking a look at his pupil response, checking breathing and heart rate. "As we're prisoners in the worst way, I'm sure we don't have access to a regenerator or anything?"

"No ma'am."

"Then there's not much I can do, but he'll be fine. Just a little beat up, is all."

"It's not right."

"No, it's not. Which is why we need Kirk back up on his sorry feet as soon as possible, and get this Tyrant off the Enterprise." She said as she stood.

"Any word on him?"

"Chekov was the only one who went in to see them on a regular basis, but since Carpenter brought back the serum, maybe..." She shook her head. "I don't know. He wasn't doing well, last I heard. Bones didn't have much hope unless he could find a way to reverse whatever they gave him or find a new super gene."

"I'm sorry."

"I am too. But let me go see Carpenter, make sure we won't..." But she couldn't say anything about death, or burying, or anything dark, not when that could be a reality for several of her crewmates. And Kirk. But every time she thought of him, she forced herself to think of him as her Captain, and not her lover or her friend or anyone particularly important to her. It had worked to keep her in one piece so far, but she knew she had to be careful. She wouldn't let herself go to pieces, not when they were in such a rough spot.

Willard escorted her to Mia's cell, where she lay in the corner, her back to the glass. At least they'd let her have some privacy.

"Mia?" Marcus let her voice be quiet, as if waking a child. And the girl stirred, but she didn't roll over, and she didn't look up. Carol frowned and placed a hand on the girl's shoulder.

“What...?” Mia's voice was full of sleep, and when she looked drowsily at Carol the blonde smiled.

“Hey Mia. How're you feeling?”

Mia frowned as she processed the question, and that seemed to be when the pain reared its ugly head. She cringed, her body shrinking as she curled up on herself, trying to keep the pain at bay.

“Mia, I know it hurts, but I need you to tell me what. I need to see what you need.”

“Legs. Wrist.” She gasped. Carol wasted no time, looking at the girl for signs of damage. And when she saw, she shook her head.

“There's nothing I can do for her. We need Bones. As soon as possible.”

“I can't do that.”

“I know.” And she couldn't blame the man for not even attempting. It was one thing to move prisoners around within the brig, where no one else could see. But to break out one of the higher profile prisoners and bring them to a different part of the ship would definitely end in Willard the sympathetic guard being Willard the prisoner, which, as he'd said before, wouldn't do any of them any good.

“I'll see if I can find someone else.”

“Thank you.” She smiled at the man, wishing she knew him better. As he escorted her back to her own cell, locking the door behind her, he gave her a weary smile.

“You're welcome.” He said quietly. And then he left, on the hunt for a doctor who wasn't being held prisoner somewhere.

Carol had no idea what had happened to Mia, but she knew she there was no way she could even begin to diagnose the problem, let alone fix it. But it was very wrong, and potentially the poor ensign wouldn't walk again, if what she'd seen was any indication. The poor girl.

But if it saved Kirk... it probably made her a horrible person, to think it was worth it to sacrifice a girl's mobility for Kirk's life, but it didn't change anything. Because she'd give up a whole lot to save Kirk, and clearly she wasn't the only one.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! Thanks for reading! And for your comments, they make me feel warm and fuzzy inside. I hope you've enjoyed this one!


	15. Chapter 15

“Come on, Kirk, I'm out of options if this doesn't work.” Bones muttered as he pressed the hypo against Kirk's neck. They were completely out of serum, and so far this was the only version that attacked the remnants of the serum in the small sample of Kirk's blood they'd drawn. With a quick prayer to whatever higher power there may be, he released the modified serum into Kirk's bloodstream. And then he returned to his chair, put his head in his hands, and hoped harder than he'd ever hoped for anything that he'd hear some stupid, sarcastic comment that made him want to punch the idiot in the face.

Spock was strangely quiet as well, leaning against the wall in his hourly routine of walking around the small space, or at least standing somewhere. Gathering his strength, even though anything more than a slow hobble was too painful for him still. They had to be prepared to back Kirk when he was finally on his feet again and ready to challenge the Tyrant for the Enterprise throne.

It was always when, not if. They neither one could bear to think if.

Bones was curious about what was happening in the world outside. It was too early for Chekov to be checking in again, although Bones had half hoped he'd be too excited about the potential cure that he would have found an excuse. Then he could tell them what had happened to Carpenter.

They stood around for several hours, just waiting, hoping for some sign of change. Bones ran the tricorder every half hour, noting any change, no matter how miniscule and unimportant they seemed. But after hours of just the barest traces of change, and nothing that suggested the serum had worked, Bones deflated in defeat.

"Well, Kirk, if you weren't so dang stubborn... maybe we could have..." But he couldn't say anymore, couldn't think of any possible futures where the captain pulled through this..

"Then we could put ourselves in more danger." Spock finished for him. "And eventually find ourselves in a very similar situation once more."

"Don't be such a negative nancy." Bones muttered. And for once, Spock didn't correct his Midwest phrase for something more logical. He just nodded, settling himself back on his bed once more.

I will endeavor to be more positive." He said quietly, his eyes on Kirk. "After all, he's only died once."

"Was that... was that a joke?" Bones raised an eyebrow at the Vulcan, who let his lips quirk up in a grin.

"I believe it was, Doctor."

"You must be sick."

"I believe I am in good health, considering my injuries."

"No, it's-"

"I understand the expression."

Bones shook his head. The First Officer must be very concerned, to be cracking jokes. Then again, they were all very concerned, and it was clearly wearing on them all. The transition from the fun loving Kirk to the Tyrant would have been rough, anyway, but worrying about the health of the captain, and surely crewmates as well, was more than they could handle.

Besides, Bones was still smarting from his trip to the planet. Not that he'd let anyone know, of course. If it got serious, he'd do something about it. There was no reason for concern until then, not with much more serious cases in the room with him.

A knocking on the door, and then a man Bones didn't recognize as one of their crew showed up inside, looking strong and fierce. His head was raised, his shoulders, massive as they were, were thrown back so his chest puffed out. His eyes slowly went from Bones, to Spock, to Kirk, as if picking who was the weakest in the group of defeated men. Bones stood, putting himself between the newcomer and his charges. That was his job, to make sure they could heal properly and quickly. Even if the guy was two feet taller.

“Doctor Leonard McCoy?” His voice didn't match his body, quiet, timid. Bones raised an eyebrow and nodded. “I need your help.”

“I'm not sure why I would offer it to a member of Brigg's invaders.”

“Because I'm trying to help Carpenter? But I'm not a doctor, not really. I can recognize a sprain, or splint a broken leg.”

“So I take it she's got worse than a broken leg?”

“Well, I put a splint on the wrist, that was broken, but her legs look like she snapped both Achilles tendons. Horribly. And I don't know... I don't know what to do to help her. I gave her a painkiller, of course, but I don't know how to coax it into healing properly.”

“Both? How did she manage that?” Bones muttered, and when the strange man started to answer Bones shook his head. “It was a rhetorical question. I can't coach you without seeing it. Hell, I'm not sure it would be a good idea to coach you through it anyway, but it's not like a have a boatload of other options.”

“I can get a monitor and a camera, if that would make you feel better. I can't take her out of her cell, and I can't let you go to her, but...”

“Why do you want to help us?” Spock's suspicions broke through McCoy's medical musings, being the logical voice of reason in the situation, as per usual.

“Because Briggs is wrong. As soon as he got control of the Enterprise... he wasn't always this cruel, he... well, he at least acted the part of good captain before. He had ambitions, and he wasn't the nicest person, but he got the job done well. I always knew he was jealous of the Enterprise, but I thought it was the same as everyone else; new ship, great crew, fantastic stories of adventure and triumph. But that's not important. He changed, and it's wrong, and I don't want to be part of a crew that won't help someone who needs it. Is that good enough?”

Spock eyed him for a good while, thinking, before he nodded. “You believe what you are saying. That will have to be enough.”

“Get that monitor, quickly. She's in too much pain for us to sit around dithering about loyalties.” Bones muttered, going to his cupboards and pulling out tools. “I'll get you everything you'll need. Go.”

“Thank you.” The man muttered, running out of the medbay in a hunt to grab the necessary equipment.

Bones turned to Spock after a moment. “Did you catch the kids name?”

“I did not.”

“Well, that was rude of us.”

“I don't believe niceties are the most important thing at the moment-”

“I know, not logically, but that's what makes us human. C'mon, help me pack stuff.”

-

It was several hours of coaching and cursing that Bones finally helped Amin Kattan repair Carpenter's legs, and by the end of it Bones was ready to pass out from the anxiety of being unable to physically help. But Mia was fast asleep and healing, and, after a requested look at Chekov, he determined that both of their friends would be fine, with time. And that was the biggest relief any of them could have hoped for, what with Kirk's imminent death. Bones forced himself to confront that truth, halfway through realizing the rest of the crew could still make it out. It wasn't easy, and he wasn't happy about it, but at least... At least the rest of his crew was going to be okay. And they'd give him the credit for that, even if most of the time he'd just been dying of allergies or unwanted serum.

“Marcus? Any damage to your person?” Bones asked, turning his attention to the blonde. The camera moved to focus on her, and she shook her head.

“No sir. Just angry.”

“Right. Good. Amin, you should probably get back to whatever you were doing before. Don't want to get you locked up with the rest of us.”

“Honestly, I'm engineering on this crew. No one will really notice I'm not running around looking for the problem with the Enterprise.”

“And you're a doctor...?” Bones raised an eyebrow, even though he knew they couldn't see it.

“I prefer engineering. My father was a doctor.”

“Alright. Well, get to it.” Bones leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes. “I'm sure Willard will come find you, if you're needed. And, uh... Thanks.”

“Not a problem. I'll leave the monitor with you, and the camera with Willard. Should make it a little easier on you all.”

“Thank you, Kattan. Your service is appreciated.” Spock sat right next to Bones, although he seemed a lot less ready to collapse than the doctor did.

-

Amin had stopped by to thank Bones and Spock for their help, which surprised them both. The engineer of the Tyrant crew had done them a favor, and, as Spock so helpfully pointed out, logically they should be thanking him. But he left them with another thank you, and Bones and Spock let it go. There didn't seem to be any way they could convince him otherwise.

"Spock, get in bed." Bones said tiredly, once the silence had fully settled and they were once again back to contemplating Kirk's mortality. "You need rest."

"I actually-"

"Don't argue with a doctor, Spock, it just makes you look stupid."

"That isn't entirely true-"

"Fine. Don't rest. Kill yourself. See if I care."

There must have been real anger or frustration in Bones' voice, because Spock silently went to the bed and sat. He didn't lay down, his own small rebellion, but he didn't insist on standing at least.

“If he doesn't wake up...”

“Stop contemplating your mortality, pointy-ear, it doesn't do anything except annoy everyone around you.” Bones sighed and sank lower in his chair. “He'll wake up, because otherwise we're stuck with Captain Tyrant for the rest of forever, and I think I'd rather join him sleeping through it.” There was more confidence in that statement than he felt, and that was surprising to the usually pessimistic doctor; he wasn't quiet about when he thought things were going horribly, on a normal day. Just went to show how important the Captain was to the normalcy of the crew. How could he be his normal, glass-half-empty self if everyone else was the same way? It sort of lost its charm.

“I agree.”

“Shut up.” It was barely a whisper, and at first Bones thought he'd imagined it. He looked at Spock, whose eyes were just as wide as Bones assumed his were, and together they jumped to the bed that held the not quite alive James Tiberius Kirk.

“Jim? Can you hear me?”

“Shut. Up.” There was a small quirk to the Captain's lips, hardly enough to be noticed unless you saw it happen. But Bones grinned like an idiot, and even Spock looked like his face was about to break in half.

“I'm not sure... how are you even awake right now, you should be in a coma, you're still... Kirk. Damn it, don't do this to me ever again, you hear me? I'm sick and tired of watching you die, I can't handle it anymore. I swear, next time this happens I'm quitting your crew for good, you got that?”

“Sure.” Kirk hadn't opened his eyes, but the fact that he was following conversation, that he was speaking, that had to be a good sign.

Unless, of course, it was the final bit of strength that seemed to pop up right before death. But Bones wouldn't let himself think about that. Either he was dying, or he wasn't, but there wasn't much he could do either way.

“How long until I can kick this asshole off my ship?”

Bones couldn't help but laugh at the question, weak and hardly audible as it was. They might just make it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a whole lot happens in this chapter, but we're getting into the good stuff. Stay tune, and thanks once more for any kind words!


	16. Chapter 16

All the members of the Enterprise crew are finally on their feet. Or at least, getting to being on their feet.

Carpenter won't be on her feet for at least a good month, not unless she can get into the medbay, which won't be happening until they've taken back their ship. Amin couldn't help but smirk as she complained about being left out of the real fun. She changed dramatically when she learned that Seth Henley had made it alright, and was on a sort of half leave until he was fully healed. That meant he was still down in engineering, but he was allowed frequent breaks and shorter hours. They'd actually become somewhat friends, in the time they'd been acquainted. Henley was the reason Amin had known some of the horrible things his own Captain had been doing since they boarded the Enterprise.

Marcus was bursting at the seams with energy, ready to go pound some 'Tyrant Crew' into the dirt. The cuts and scrapes, the burns from the phasers, those had been easy to take care of, and she was in top shape once more.

Chekov was fine, physically. But he was a wreck emotionally. Something about the beating and consequent jailing had really done something horrible to him, and Amin had a feeling that, despite the attempts of the other jailed crew members, there was only one person who could get him out of the funk he was in. And that person wasn't currently available for pep talks.

Bones was worse for the wear, but he was getting better. He was finally letting his body rest and heal after his time on the planet, which was sorely needed. Because Kirk wasn't getting any worse, and Spock was healing on his own, so he could relax for a bit.

Spock was healing quickly, standing for longer periods of time and seemingly in higher spirits, although Amin had never quite understood how to tell emotions apart in a Vulcan. In theory, he wasn't supposed to.

But Kirk... he wasn't getting worse, and for a time he'd even been getting better. A few days after the hypo had delivered the updated serum, his health had gotten better. He was able to breathe easier, talk more, and was once more aware of his surroundings. But he wasn't getting any stronger. Bones had explained to Amin that, while the radiation appeared to have disappeared, his body wasn't healing from it like they'd expected. His body was still weak, torn apart by the effects, and Kirk was still in a great deal of pain, even with the medication he'd been given. There was something missing, and Bones had an idea that it related to the strength in the Augments blood. They healing was done, but he needed an extra boost that Bones didn't have access to.

Unfortunately, Amin hadn't been much help with that.

He was wandering around engineering, pretending to look for the piece they all knew wasn't there, and Henley was walking beside him. The Enterprise engineer was limping heavily, but he refused to rest and he refused the wheeled chair he'd been offered, so Amin had stopped saying anything. The man didn't want to feel helpless, which was understandable at the moment. But there really wasn't anything he could do, and he was just postponing the full healing that he needed...

Amin pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind, because he'd had this argument before, and it hadn't changed his headstrong companion's mind.

“Any change in the Captain today?”

“No.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, how do we help him? What does he need? We can get it for him, I'm sure. I'll throw the whole engine out the window if it means we can save him.”

“From what I understand, he wouldn't appreciate that.” Amin gave his new friend a small smile, and Henley rolled his eyes.

“He'd be alive to understand, that's the important part. And Starfleet wouldn't let this fantastic piece of ship sit around and rust, they'd fix her. Hell, they completely rebuilt her last time she needed it. They like the shiny bird and her bright eyed captain too much.”

Amin thought about arguing, but from what he'd heard, what he'd seen, and the stories that had been told about this ship and her captain, he guessed that wasn't far off the mark. Although the fact that they'd replaced the proper replacements for Captain seemed to speak of a newfound love of rules over the crew that dived into danger.

He wouldn't say that. After all, most of what made this crew great was their loyalty and their ability to push on through the most hopeless of situations. He wouldn't take that greatness from them.

So he and Henley walked for a while, until it was time to check up on the captive crew again, as he'd been doing twice a day every day. Because someone had to relay messages.

-

“Kirk, you settle your ass back in bed or so help me...”

“I'm still in bed.”

Bones shook his head. Apparently, while he'd been sleeping and having nightmares about the Captain dying, the very same Captain had been attempting to engineer an escape. And Spock, of all the idiot accomplices, was helping him. And now Kirk was acting like a petulant child as Spock continued to modify the medbay bed. Spock who shouldn't be sitting on the floor twisting like that.

Children, the both of them. They'd put him in an early grave for sure.

“Spock, get up, you're going to hurt yourself.”

“I am fine. Doctor.”

“No, you're gonna break something again and I'm going to have to fix it.”

“Listen Bones, you may be content to sit here-” Here the Captain cringed, feeling some deep pain from his injuries. But once it had passed, he continued as if nothing had happened. “Sit here in the Medbay caring for patients, but that's what you do, that's where you belong. Me, I belong in my chair. So we're just going to go get it back, and then you can saddle me with whatever treatment you want. Promise.”

“That's- How in the hell do you think you're going to take the ship back when you _can't even get out of your bed_?” He was barely containing himself. He wanted to smack some sense into the boy, and he knew that would be a bad idea. But he just made it so damn tempting...

“I'm just there for morale. Really, I'll just sit around and tell people what to do.”

“Yeah. You and what army? You do realize your crew is all terrified of the Tyrant who took over your ship, and none of them are fond of losing their jobs, right?”

“They won't lost their jobs. They'll always have a spot aboard the Enterprise.”

“Even if the Enterprise is on the run from Starfleet?”

There was a heavy silence before Kirk nodded. “Even on the run from Starfleet.”

Bones sobered immediately, his rage dying down. “You'd really risk losing your home in the united galaxy just to get your ship back?”

“I'd risk it to get my home back.”

“You better make damn sure everyone's ready to make that sacrifice with you. Some of these people have families back home.”

“Anyone who doesn't want to be banished from Starfleet will get a full pardon. After all, who's going to say whether they helped in the takeover or they were innocent bystanders?” Then, quieter, without all the pomp that he was used to, “I won't take anyone's family from them. Trust me on that.”

“I do.” Bones sighed. “I don't have a family to go back to, anyway. Let me try something first, though. It won't do to have you lead the charge from a gurney.” Because an idea had struck him out of nowhere during Kirk's attempt at a motivating speech, and it seemed possible...

He'd just have to find out. But first, he'd need their new friend.

-

Sulu sat on the bridge, doing his job and covering the panic that sat deep within him, stirring every time the Tyrant so much as looked in his direction.

It wasn't exactly fun, to be the last one.

The others on the bridge would help him, of course, he had no doubt. After all, the crew of the Enterprise was first a family, and then everything else they had to do. But they also shared the same fear he did; losing their jobs, not being able to support families, being blacklisted from every job they were able to do and living in the deepest form of poverty imaginable. Living away from family was hard; knowing if you didn't keep your job your family wouldn't have a place to live was worse. And right now, his only thoughts were on keeping a home for his husband and daughter.

But he also had to get Kirk back in that chair, because no one else would allow him the leave he'd been given to spend time with that same family, no one else would understand when he had to run home because his daughter had broken a bone or his husband had come down with a bad illness and needed someone to care for him. No one else was as understanding about family as Kirk, and honestly, the Captain could get in real trouble for allowing as much leave as he did. But it kept his crew in higher spirits, helped them focus on their jobs, and they got things done no other crew did. Everything was better when the rightful Captain of the Enterprise sat in that command chair.

He hadn't received any word recently. He heard tell that one of the Tyrant's crew had metaphorically jumped ship and was helping them out, but that was the most hushed secret of them all. If the Tyrant found out, they'd lose that connection, that free reign around the ship, and they sorely needed it. So Sulu hadn't had any contact with him, but he was hoping, soon, he'd get word of a plan, something they could do.

He hadn't expected that word to come in the form of Spock, hobbling onto the Bridge, his face stoic as ever.

“Mr. Spock. I am surprised to see you out of bed.” Which was really code for 'How did you escape your prison?”

“It is indeed miraculous.” Spock said quietly. “I am sure you were expecting your rule to go unchallenged.”

“You think you can challenge me?” A guffaw of laughter. Sulu stared wide eyed at the Vulcan, attempting to tell him to shut up, to go back to his bed until they could come up with a plan, not to get himself killed. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew there must be a plan, because Spock would never do something so idiotic as challenge the fit faux captain to any kind of duel in the condition he was currently in. But the forefront of his brain was concerned for the man, and what must be happening to Kirk to force this action. This stupid, stupid action.

“I do not. I am at less then 50% of my fighting ability, and it would be foolish to try anything. However...”

And everyone gasped audibly as the Captain walked, proud and strong, from behind Spock, who just smiled tightly at the Captain.

“Get your ass out of my chair.”

What a dramatic little shit.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter, because I wanted to get it up before I went to work. But all will be explained, never fear. Thanks for reading, thanks for your comments, you all are the best!


	17. Chapter 17

It was a huge relief to be back on the bridge, standing, ready to go. Raring to go, even.

He knew it probably wouldn't last long, and he had to do what needed to be done as quickly as possible. But he couldn't help the little bit of dramatic flair to start. After all, he wasn't James Tiberius Kirk if he didn't flash some dramatics.

He watched with a smug sort of pride as Briggs tried to comprehend the Captain standing in front of him, full of color and life. The wide eyes that immediately shrank to a narrow glare as he attempted to hide his surprise, the way his body shifted from relaxed to tense and prepared. After all, Spock had been something of a joke. A fully alive Captain come to reclaim his throne was serious business.

"Kirk. Last I heard, you were dying."

"Disappointed?"

"A little."

"Well, I'm hurt!" He grinned, the crooked smile that had lured in more than one female. It occasionally lured in men as well, but more often than not is had an aggravating effect, which could be equally useful.

"If only that were true."

"Well, aren't we rude." Kirk sauntered forward, putting himself just a few feet away from Briggs. "And I'll thank you to step away from my chair. Escorting yourself to the cell I've picked out for you would be preferable."

"You are aware, of course, that your title has been stripped, in light of your impending death, and I've been made Captain of this ship."

"You are aware, of course, that I'm clearly not dead." The statement was light, airy, but the next words out of his mouth were deadly serious, and looking for a fight. "The Enterprise is my ship."

"It was lent to you by Starfleet. Don't presume to take ownership of it."

The way he spoke about the Enterprise, as if she was just a hunk of metal to be given or taken, made Kirk's blood boil. And so the first punch was thrown, landing solidly on the forearm that Briggs raised to keep it from hitting his face. And then another, which landed in the Tyrant's kidney. The larger man stumbled backwards, tripping over his own feet and landing solidly on his backside on the hard floor. Kirk took two more steps forward, so he stood in front of the Command Chair. His chair.

No one moved forward to help, which was what Kirk had expected; they knew this had to be Kirk's battle, he had to be the one. Either that, or they were just stunned that he was there to fight at all. Either way, it was exactly what he'd wanted.

Briggs stood, brushing whatever dirt or grime he might have collected from his meeting with the floor, and with a quiet, "There's your two hits," he took a step forward and slammed his fist into Kirk's stomach, sending a whoosh of air from his lungs. Kirk didn't waste a second retaliating, another punch aimed at the face, blocking one aimed at his side, landing one across Brigg's cheekbone before receiving one to the throat. He stumbled backwards as he tried to breathe, barely dodging another hit before coming up strong, an uppercut that landed solidly on Brigg's chin, and a whack to the Solar Plexus. Briggs stumbled backwards again, and Kirk quirked a half smile.

"What was that about two hits?"

"You needed a handicap."

"You think?"

Kirk dodged the aim for his nose. And his knee gave out and he landed hard on the floor. He cursed mentally as he forced his body to rise again. It wouldn't do for the temporary cure to wear off now.

He threw a punch up again, missing by just a hair, and Briggs came at him with another punch that Kirk barely dodged. And the second sign that he needed to bring it to a close was the sharp pain as he took a deeper breath. Damn it, his body just needed to last a little longer. He just needed to put this man down so they could get him off the bridge, and then he could give out. After, of course, assuring the crew he was fine and just needed some rest.

Bones had better be closer to a permanent solution than they thought, because Starfleet would be coming after them as soon as they heard about the Tyrant's deposition.

He shouldn't have let his focus wander, because that let Briggs land a punch in his side, which felt like an explosion of pain. He reacted instinctively, his fist flying out to protect himself and landing square between the faux captain's eyes. And he went down like a stone, just as Kirk's legs gave out and he did the same.

There was a moment of silence as Kirk let himself adjust, and then the door opened. And Uhura's gasp as she saw not only Spock, presumably leaning heavily against the wall if not sitting, but then Kirk, laying on the floor beside the Tyrant. That seemed to break the stunned silence, because suddenly Sulu was sitting next to Kirk.

“What do I need to do?” He asked quietly, relief seeping from his voice.

“Help me up.” He muttered. And Sulu wrapped an arm around his shoulders and hauled him to his feet, where he wobbled. He needed to go lay down, and quickly, or he risked showing just how weak he was to the crew. And they needed a strong leader now, someone to take them where they needed to be.

“The Enterprise won't be run by a tyrant, now or ever.” He said quietly, and somehow every ear on the bridge heard it clearly. “That being said, we've effectively just mutinied against Starfleet, and that won't go over well. If you have no desire to be on Starfleet's bad side, you are free to make use of the shuttles and leave the ship, and you can tell them all we abandoned you for not following my orders. There will be no grudges held if you have to protect your lives outside of this ship.”

Silence followed those words, a heavy, thoughtful silence. It was a difficult decision, but one they needed to make. And one they didn't need him around for.

“That being said, Sulu will take control of the Bridge. Get Briggs to the brig,” He couldn't help but smile a little at that sentence. “And get our team out of their cells. Then we've got to get out of here.”

“Sir, the Enterprise won't move-” Kirk turned to one of the newer members of his crew and grinned.

“She won't move because Chekov had the foresight to steal one of her pieces. We'll have no problem once that's reinstalled.

“I'll be in the medbay, if anyone needs anything. Sulu, you're in charge.” After a moment, he added, almost under his breath, "Unless you need to leave." 

Sulu gave him a surprised look before shaking his head. "My family will be fine. The Enterprise needs me now."

Kirk felt pride swell within him, but he didn't let his concentration break to be happy for loyalty. He didn't have time for that just then.

He freed himself of Sulu, nodding at the man as he walked towards where Spock was leaning against Uhura. He did his best not to limp, not to hunch, to walk with pride and strength from the room, but he wasn't sure if he'd quite managed to get out before his body crumpled in on itself, and he fell heavily against the wall.

“Kirk!” Uhura. She was half carrying an exhausted Spock, she couldn't help him.

_Get yourself to the medbay. Then you can collapse. Just get back._

And with those words to himself, he waved Uhura off, stood again, one hand against the wall, and slowly made his way back to Bones, who was probably worried to death that both of them had died.

The door opened for him now, the guards gone. Clearly word traveled faster than a wounded Kirk did. He took two steps into the medbay and his strength left him, leaving him to crumple to the floor in a heap of pained limbs.

“Kirk, dammit, you pushed it too hard.” Bones tried to hide the concern in his voice with scorn, but he was only half successful as he scooped the Captain up and, with much struggling, deposited the Captain in his bed.

“But she's ours again.” The pride in his voice, even laced with pain, made Bones warm inside. He would never forget the quiet that had settled about Kirk when they'd been dying in the alien cave. Any emotion was a relief.

“Good. I'd be disappointed otherwise.”

-

It was Willard who unlocked the cells for the prisoners, and Amin who was given the honor of locking up the Tyrant and any of his crew who were unwilling to defect to Kirk's renegade crew. He'd been accepted among the Enterprise crew, and a few others who had been helping them deal with the Tyrant's reign. Most had gone into cells. And with Sulu at the helm, everything was starting to go back to normal. Or as normal as they could be, with the Captain and First Officer both sleeping in the Medbay and their ship soon to be blacklisted. But it felt much more like home all of a sudden, and everyone found they could sleep better.

According to the ship gossip, Kirk was on the mend, and had just needed some time to sleep off the fight. He'd be sitting in the command chair soon, leading them on to new adventures. Bones, however, wasn't as sure.

The temporary fix had simply been a sample of Carpenter's blood, still thrumming with the changes the planet's atmosphere had made in her. In the short term, he'd just separated the components that magnified her natural abilities and mixed them with a liquid agent to carry it through his bloodstream. And it had lasted for just under a half an hour, at which point Kirk's body had reverted back to it's previous state. It did seem like his cells had repaired themselves, but it was a minuscule amount, and in order to maintain that level of reparation Bones would have to give him injections every half hour, if not more, or find a way to super boost the new serum. He had the ability to do neither at the moment, because he didn't have enough sample to take him that far. Carpenter had offered as much as they needed, but she had a lot of healing to do, and Bones wouldn't risk her healing process if he could come up with anything else. Even if he couldn't, he wouldn't want to take any more from her. It wasn't his decision who lived and who died, and he could very easily kill her to save Kirk.

He wouldn't be the one responsible for that. He couldn't be.

On the other hand, that might mean he was responsible for Kirk's death. But he wouldn't allow himself to think like that.

So Kirk was sleeping in the med bay once more, although he seemed to be resting a lot easier than he had been, which was at least something, and Spock was sleeping in the bed next to him. It almost felt like they hadn't accomplished anything, that the Tyrant was still sitting in the command chair and they were still trapped here, no way out...

But then Uhura entered the Medbay, and all those fears that had been prickling in his psyche disappeared. Of course they'd done something. Of course.

“How're they doing?” She asked, her voice soft. She looked at Kirk, but mostly her eyes rested on Spock, her sometimes lover. It seemed they were on again, but Bones had a terrible time keeping track. He figured they'd eventually get together and stay together, but in the mean time, he didn't assume anything.

“Spock just needs to keep his ass in bed, then he'll heal and be fine.”

“And...?”

A heavy sigh. “Kirk needs a miracle. But he's not knocking at death's door anymore.”

“How long does he have?”

“Couldn't say. I didn't have any trial period with his temporary cure, so it could be he'll stay like this forever, weak but alive, or he could start to deteriorate further. All we can do is wait. Or send him back down to absorb the atmosphere on his own. Carpenter doesn't seem to have lost any of the strength or speed that came with it, but it didn't affect the rest of us in the same way.”

“Could it be that you were locked up, so you didn't get the same effects?”

“But then Henley should have been affected too, and he's just as normal as he ever was. We were all breathing the same air, so...” Bones trailed off, frowning. Uhura waited patiently, seeing the connection being made in Bones' mind and knowing he was about to figure out how to save the Captain.

“When we were in their cells, they let us keep our oxygen, and since those things could last for weeks we didn't need anything else, but... Carpenter, when she came back, she had one of theirs. But there's no oxygen on that planet, so they must have substituted something that works in the same way, something that grants the effects... And that could be why they're so large, if... but it's not in the atmosphere, or else we'd be able to breathe down there, so...” He trailed off, lost in his own train of thought.

Uhura waited as patiently as she could, but finally watching him go back and forth, frowning to himself, became a waste of her time. “Carpenter's mask and tank are being stored in the artifact room. It should still have some of the whatever they were breathing in it. We could give it to Kirk-”

Bones was up and moving before Uhura was finished speaking, and she hurriedly rose with him, making their way to what could be Kirk's miracle, if the doctor's speculation was correct. And it usually was.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been too long, but honestly I wasn't sure what to do with this chapter. As you could probably tell. >.> But thanks so much for reading! More adventure awaits!


	18. Chapter 18

As Kirk breathed in the modified oxygen that Mia had inadvertantly brought back with her, Bones monitored his stats. Uhura waited by Spock's side, who had woken up in the noise of setting Kirk up with the new attempt at a cure and was watching intently. It was obvious that he was just as hopeful as the rest of them, even though he would never admit it and he would deny showing concern later.

And there was silence for a good few minutes, but they all knew a change wouldn't happen that quickly. And eventually Bones put the tricorder away and went back to his chair, determined to take a nap before things really moved into full swing. After all, they'd all be busy and putting their lives in danger once Kirk was back on his feet.

He didn't dare think that it might not work, because then he was back to the drawing board. And they might not have enough time for him to come up with a new solution to try. No self-fulfilling prophecies on this ship.

After a few minutes, it became clear that his brain was too busy circling around possible solutions

Chekov showed up after a half hour had passed, and when he saw Kirk his face fell. He went and sat next to Bones, who patted the kid on the back in what he hoped was a comforting manner before they returned to their silent vigil. Bones tried not to look at the bruises on Chekov's face, but he couldn't help his concern. After all, he hadn't been the one to treat the kid, and what if something was still wrong?

But he'd ask later, in private. He seemed alright, anyway. And he would actually come to the doctor with aches and pains, unlike  _some_  of this crew.

Finally, Bones rose, stretching his tired, mildly aching body and muttered, "Best go see to Carpenter," before leaving the room.

And there was more silence.

"It should not be so quiet." Chekov muttered, his accent almost obscuring the quiet words. Uhura nodded, her gaze fixed on her folded hands in her lap. And Spock just looked like he'd lost his right arm, dazed and lost. It was too much, healing from the damage to his chest and feeling like Kirk would die. He couldn't do anything about it. He was useless, helpless, hopeless. And that was heavier than the silence in the room.

As if she could tell what he was thinking, Uhura reached over and took his hand, squeezing it once. It was a human gesture, one that a Vulcan wouldn't need, but for the moment his human side was the stronger. The action comforted him in a way he usually didn't need to be comforted, and he was grateful that Uhura seemed to be so in tune with him, had learned when he needed a human gesture and when he should be left alone.

Being so grateful to a person for being herself was another very human emotion. But it was very difficult to push those away at the moment, and he was too tired to try.

That meant he was equally too tired to try and refrain from smiling when he heard Kirk's voice. “What the hell are we doing to me now?”

And after the explanation, Kirk just grinned and took a deep breath, effectively eliminating all tension in the room and allowing them to finally just breathe.

Kirk was on his feet once more a few days later, although he was still made to sit for a few hours a day and breathe in the foreign air, until it finally ran out. And by the time it did, Kirk was feeling better than ever. A new man, ready to face all kinds of deadly situations.

Bones reminded him that they weren't interested in deadly situations, but it didn't seem to deter the battle-ready captain. He charged around the Enterprise like a new man, or like a five year old, depending on who was asked.

And it was a relief. Finally, the ship felt right, Aside from the ships leaving with members of the crew who didn't want – or couldn't afford – to get on Starfleet's bad side. And the fact that they couldn't go back for a mission debrief, because that would end in at least one of the crew in cuffs, likely many of them. Until they could come up with a way to clear their names, Kirk was determined they weren't going back. Especially not after they'd given his ship to that Tyrant.

Kirk finally sat in his chair, listening to the familiar sounds of the bridge around him and falling into a state of happy bliss. This was where he belonged. And Spock stood beside him, finally well enough to be up and about, although Bones discouraged long periods of time still. Things were finally right.

“Where should we go, Spock?”

“That is up to your discretion, Captain.”

“You're not going to tell me it's our duty to return to Starfleet? Disagree with me every turn?”

“I do not believe Starfleet has our, nor the galaxy's, best interests at heart. I will follow where you lead.”

The warmth that surged up through Kirk as his friend deferred to his judgment forced a grin onto his face.

“Sulu? Let's just take it the opposite direction of Starfleet. Let's continue exploring.”

And Sulu nodded, a smile on his face, before he turned around and began taking them away from this planet, away from the destruction and pain that had happened to them there. There were other things to take care of – a memorial for Henley, for one – but their first order of business was escaping Starfleet's radar so they could safely do what they needed to do.

“Oh, and let's get rid of the Tyrant, shall we? I don't need anyone not useful on my ship.”

The response of overwhelming agreement was also a moment of happiness to the captain. Finally, they were back on track. Finally they could get the Enterprise moving, until they came up with a way to fight Starfleet and their strange desire to strip Kirk and Spock of their titles.

-

It was something of a party, watching the Tyrant and those loyal to him be ejected from the ship in their little pods. They had a drink handy, there was music playing softly, and through the window they could see each one being shot. They weren't sending them to the planet they'd escaped from – they weren't cruel – but one a short distance away, one they knew had oxygen and a food source to keep them until Starfleet could rescue them. The distress signal worked in the pods, so they shouldn't have a problem getting attention to themselves. After the Enterprise was far away, of course.

“I feel like I shouldn't be so happy about this.” Uhura said with a smile as she stuck herself to Spock's side, taking a drink from the glass tumbler. They'd broken out the fancy things, things that were packed in a thousand layers of packing to keep them from breaking most of the time. After all, they had a lot to celebrate. They were alive, they'd escaped the Tyrant, they were all together.

Kirk was drinking apple juice instead, because Bones had yelled about not drinking alcohol so soon after his recovery. And he wasn't happy about that, obviously glancing at the alcohol in Uhura's hand. And she caught his look, grinned wickedly, and threw the rest of it back.

“Stop bragging.” Kirk muttered, sipping at the less exciting drink.

“It's not my fault you made us all panic with your near death.”

“It's not my fault I almost died.”

Uhura raised an eyebrow, one corner of her lips quirked up. And Kirk rolled his eyes.

“Contrary to popular belief, I'm not a huge fan of dying or being in pain. It isn't actually my life goal.”

“Could've fooled me.”

“Yeah yeah, shut up. Spock, tell your girlfriend I don't want to die.”

“There is no evidence otherwise.”

“Are you... are you joking? Are you playing along to frustrate me? You think you know a guy...”

“I don't-” Before Spock could defend himself, the ship shook with the force of an explosion. All eyes flew to the window, where one of the pods had been blown up and was currently pieces of fire floating around space, immediately going out as the minimal oxygen ran out. And before Kirk could say anything, another was gone.

“Tell me where they are, and let's get them gone.” Kirk yelled, before taking off. Spock hesitated for only a second before he followed.

“Where are we going?” He asked, easily catching up with his friend.

“We can't let them die like that.” Kirk answered. “Damn it, one week. That's all I ask, one week without people trying to kill us.” He stumbled as the ship shook again, not pausing once he regained his balance.

“That was a hit on the Enterprise.” Spock said quietly as they continued racing towards the brig, where those pods would have been launched.

“Don't break my baby, not when I just got her back.” Kirk muttered, and he skidded into the brig .

Willard was there, already desperately pressing buttons at the control panel. He looked up when Kirk came in, but there was nothing except desperation on his face.

“What's going on?”

“I... I keep trying to get them in, sir, but...”

“But what?” Kirk was trying hard not to yell as another explosion happened outside. And then another one, louder but no less terrible than the first.

“There's some interference with the signal. I can't get them, back.”

A horrible moment of silence was only broken by another explosion. Of the seven pods they'd sent out, two remained. And those two didn't have long, at the rate they were being taken out.

Kirk turned to Spock, and what could only be called desperation covered the Captain's face and seeped through his words. “Isn't there anything you can do?”

And while Spock's brain flew through the possibilities, in the end he came up short. He shook his head, feeling the weight of the deaths as if they were his fault.

“There is nothing, Captain.”

Kirk snarled and turned to watch the sixth one disappear into flaming wreckage.

 He stared, unmoving, for several moments, until the last pod was destroyed. And then he turned without a word he and left, his steps purposeful towards the bridge of the ship. Spock thanked Willard quietly for his efforts before following the suddenly stoic captain.

Another impact threw both Spock and Kirk against the side of the ship. Spock cringed as the shock hurt those pieces of him that weren't completely healed yet, but Kirk hardly seemed to notice the impact, pushing himself off the wall and continuing on his quest. Spock took a moment to breathe before hurrying to follow; he wasn't sure what the Captain would do, after the look on his face when he fled. There was something about watching his enemies helpless as they were killed that had triggered something in the unpredictable man, and he was a completely different person than just a half hour ago. Any joviality had disappeared completely, leaving him... he was almost scary.

They entered a bridge that felt strangely calm, knowing what they'd just watched and listening to the alarms blare. Sulu stood as Kirk took his seat, the chain of command shifting to allow the Captain and First Officer to take their places.

Spock waited silently by Kirk's side, leaning slightly against the command chair for both balance and because his body was sore. And all eyes turned to him, metaphorically of course, for an answer, a next step.

“Who is it?”

“The communications I'm reading... it's the natives of Gandriel V. The planet you were attacked on. They followed us.”

“And why didn't we know they were here?” He demanded, although his voice didn't raise in volume, didn't change much at all. And it wasn't fair to demand Uhura know, since it wasn't her job, but she wasn't shaken. She knew enough about Kirk to know she shouldn't take it personally.

“Because they are apparently more advanced than we could have guessed. They didn't show up on our radar.”

A moment of stillness filled the bridge, everyone waiting for Kirk's answer. He stared straight ahead, not saying anything for a moment despite another hit, more wailing alarms.

“Take them out.” His voice was absolutely calm, uncharacteristically quiet. And his crew didn't take a second longer to follow his instructions than necessary.

No one was allowed to wound the Enterprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a little longer this time! I'm in the process of moving, so I apologize for late updates (or no updates, as the case may be). I have plans to finish this fic, so stick around if I'm inactive for a little while! Thanks, as always, for reading!
> 
> Also, I realize I should have named this planet, like, forever ago. Oops.


	19. Chapter 19

It was all well and good, destroying the enemy that was attempting to destroy them. A grand plan, an obvious plan, and nothing surprising at all about it.

The problem was, they hadn't been able to detect the dang ship before they started attacking. And that hadn't magically changed once they'd started blowing holes in the ship.

But as their choices were to detect and destroy the enemy or be blown up themselves, the crew of the Enterprise worked overtime to develop a way to easily track the enemy. They'd be out of time when the ship was too damaged to retaliate.

Kirk watched his crew run around, trying to come up with something, wracking their brains and going back and forth with pros and cons. And he waited. Because inside, he was in complete turmoil. He hadn't wanted them to die. He had wanted them off of his ship, because they'd been a danger to his crew every second they were around, but... they hadn't deserved to die. They had been doing what Starfleet had commanded. Not well, in some of their cases, and certainly not pleasantly, but... they hadn't deserved to die. Not like that.

And when Uhura came up with some plan to do with tracking the communication that was being sent... somewhere, he just nodded and let them go, not even comprehending half the words she said. And when the crew successfully drove off the ship, although they were sad to report it wasn't destroyed, he nodded and demanded an assessment of the damage and ordered them to get as far away from there as possible.

Then he left the bridge.

Spock watched him go, but he'd been ordered to take command as Kirk had left, so he was forced not to follow, not to make sure his friend stayed safe. And he was afraid, because the look he'd seen in Kirk's face was very unlike the captain. It spoke of a deep self-loathing that Spock understood, even if he'd never admit to it.

He went to Uhura, placing a hand on her shoulder and speaking quietly. "Make sure he does not do himself harm. Please."

He had half expected her to argue, as she usually did when she was told what to do, but she just nodded. It was clear from her face that she was just as concerned as Spock was, although she allowed that to show on her face and quicken her steps as she left the bridge.

He then took his seat in the command chair, subconsciously dwelling on the captain while he dealt with the remains of the Enterprise.

-

Uhura was surprised at the speed Kirk must be using, to have arrived down in engineering before she caught up with him. Clearly that miracle air from Gandriel V must really be something. She found him standing under a big metal bowl shape that she couldn't identify, holding it up as a team of engineers soddered it back into place. She frowned, looking at the chunk of metal that must weigh much at least a ton. Kirk shouldn't have been able to hold it on his own.

Blame it on the miracle air.

"Kirk." 

"Just hold on, alright?"

At least she could see, now that she'd taken a few steps closer, that it was a strain for him, and sweat beaded his forehead. That made her feel a little better, even though she was still concerned that he was able to do it at all. But the ramifications of Kirk's strength would be considered when they were safely away, as it had been when he'd been injected with Khan's blood. And they'd get through it, and everyone would be fine.

She told herself these things as she waited for Kirk to step out from under the object. There was a moment of no movement as they waited to make sure it wouldn't come tumbling down, and then they applauded themselves quickly before scurrying off to the next mend.

Uhura appreciated the red shirts, but she would never understand them.

Kirk moved as if to follow, and then he turned to frown at Uhura. "Did you need something?"

"Uh... no. I was... can I help?" He seemed to be doing fine, despite the crease in his forehead that refused to go away, even when he gave her a small smirk.

"I'm sure we can use you. She's got a few too many holes in her for my liking."

So Uhura followed Kirk around Engineering, fixing things, burning her fingers, straining her muscles, all the while keeping an eye on the Captain to make sure he didn't try anything overly reckless. And when the shift changed and a new bunch came down to engineering, Kirk decided they were unnecessary and the crew could take care of the rest.

Uhura was exhausted by that point, but proud of the man who was seeming to hold himself together, despite Spock's fears. Maybe he'd just needed to take care of his ship, maybe he'd only needed the physical exertion to work off his emotions. Maybe Spock had just been overly concerned about his friend.

But Uhura had been concerned as well. And they both knew that the Captain didn't work through emotions with physical activity. He'd be in trouble later, when he was alone.

"What are your plans now?"

Kirk turned and frowned. "Bones wanted to see me. Why?"

"Just... curious. Thought we could play a game of chess or something." Really, chess was the last thing she wanted to do, but if it would keep him occupied...

"Tomorrow?" Kirk offered, giving her a half smirk.

"Yeah. Sounds good. Good night."

She watched him nod and walk away, actually heading to the medbay. If he was going voluntarily, something was definitely wrong. But at least he'd be with Leonard, and maybe they could work through the emotions he was definitely suffering through.

With a sigh, she turned and went to her own quarters, practically dragging her feet the whole way. She hadn't exerted that much effort in much too long.

-

Kirk knew what Uhura was up to as soon as she showed up in engineering. And it was unnecessary, but he let her believe she was helping. It was probably at Spock's request that she'd showed up, to make sure he didn't try to kill himself because he was too depressed.

It wasn't unheard of, but it was unnecessary. He would be fine. He had felt the emotions start to dissipate as soon as he'd applied himself to the hard labor, and by the time he called it quits the ache of guilt was just a dull throb in the back of his mind. So he bid her goodnight and walked towards the medbay, where Bones was expecting him to report in for a check up. Which, of course, he was avoiding. But it would make Nyota feel better if she thought he was going to be with someone else.

After he knew she was gone, he turned and went to his own quarters, where he could have some privacy. He just needed time to sort through things, get his head back on. After all, he was an enemy of Starfleet, which was both a surprise and a cause for concern. They'd always disagreed on protocol, but he'd never really thought they'd command he be left on a planet where he was dying, and then strip him of his title _because_ he was dying. It was all ridiculous.

He locked the door behind him, feeling the familiarity of the room release all of the controlled calm that was required to lead a group of people into outer space. All of the emotion came crashing over him, and where he'd been fine moments before, he was now struggling to keep from drowning in the sea. He crumpled to the floor, his shoulders heaving with dry sobs as he watched, once more, the pods being destroyed. That was on him. That was all on him. And there was nothing he could do to make it right again. They'd probably pin the blame for that on him as well, and soon he'd have nothing left except a ship that really didn't belong to him and a crew who would eventually want to leave for their families or their lives on planet. So really, nothing.

He forced himself to stop feeling self pity. He had friends who wouldn't abandon him. After all, Spock and Uhura both had everything they wanted on the Enterprise. They would stay. Sulu would go home to his family, he was sure, but Chekov had too much passion for space, he would probably stay, at least for a while.

His crew was used to being in space. They wouldn't just abandon him. They'd at least make sure he was taken care of before they left, because they were family.

He just had to keep telling himself that. He wasn't alone. That helped.

And it wasn't all his fault. He couldn't have known they'd been followed by an untrackable ship, he couldn't have known the pods would be a target. He had only done what he thought was right by his family. He couldn't be blamed for that.

Well, he could be. But it wasn't completely his fault.

It took him a few minutes, but eventually he felt sure enough of that statement that he could function once more. He took a deep breath, and the intelligent part of him said that maybe he should actually go see Bones, since he was not only supposed to, but he'd also told Uhura he would. If she asked McCoy and he hadn't, he'd have two people on his ass about it. It probably wasn't worth it.

He made his way to the medbay, smirking at the look that would surely be on Bones' face when he showed up of his own volition. And sure enough, when he walked through the doors of the sterile environment Bones practically lived in, the doctor's mouth dropped and he stared for a second before shaking himself out of his gruff stupor.

"It's about damn time, I have other things to do." He muttered, ushering Jim to one of the beds and sitting him down. In no time he'd drawn blood and checked Kirk's vitals, nodding to himself as he did so.

"Am I gonna live?" Kirk asked, dodging the distracted smack Bones sent his way as he read the results of his scan.

"Hopefully not. Unfortunately, it looks like you will."

"Good. Can I go?"

"Kirk..." Bones paused, as if debating the best way to phrase his words. "We don't know why the Gandrialans were trying to negate the augment blood in you, but they might be able to do the same with this.”

“So don't let them catch me again. Wasn't planning on it anyway.”

“You know what I'm saying, Kirk. You've gotta play it safe for a while, at least until I can be sure they can't take you out again. I don't have any back up gas that I can just pump into you, you'll be as good as dead.”

“Like I said, wasn't planning on getting caught again, which means we won't have a problem. Can I go?”

Bones rolled his eyes, putting away the equipment he'd used and intentionally not looking at Kirk.

“No missions until I can be sure they won't kill you. Doctor's orders. And I know you're going to fight me,” Bones didn't have to turn around to know Kirk had opened his mouth to argue. “But I need to run a few more tests before you're cleared. We may not be a part of Starfleet anymore, but for crying out loud you should still respect that. So please, just let it go for a minute. Besides, we probably won't be able to stop anywhere for long anyway, knowing how much Starfleet wants to clap your ass in irons.”

Bones turned to look at the Captain, ready to fight him if need be, but Kirk just frowned and nodded. “Okay.”

“And don't you just tell me you won't and then run off without letting me know first, because I'll alert security and they'll stop you-”

“I said okay. I won't do it until you feel satisfied that I can do it safely.”

Bones just stared at him for a moment, waiting for the punchline or the telltale sign that Kirk was just telling him what he wanted to hear. But there was nothing, and that made Bones more worried.

“And if you need to talk about anything...” He knew the captain wouldn't take him up on the offer, and he knew that the nod and smile he received actually were just placating him this time, but he still hoped the offer would at least make Kirk feel less alone, if nothing else. Because there was something off about him, and Bones had several guesses at what could be causing it. None of them were good things.

He watched Kirk leave, presumably going to his room to rest for the night, hoping the man wouldn't seclude himself with his feelings and end up hurting himself. Because Kirk definitely had a lot of things to be upset about at the moment.

Bones vowed to keep an eye on Jim until he was satisfied that the worst was past, and finished working on the tests he wanted to run to be sure Kirk wasn't dying in some other way.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may be wrapping this up within the next few chapters, and then creating a second part to the series. I'm not sure yet, because I'm horrible at plotting and making decisions, but stay tuned to learn more! Thanks for reading, for the kudos and the comments, and I hope you continue to enjoy as I figure out what I want to do with this story!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for taking up the story! I'm afraid I'm not as deep into the trekverse as I would like to be, and so there are probably facts that aren't quite right. If you see something, please, don't hesitate to inform me so I can fix it. Any kind words would be nice as well, and I hope you enjoyed the first chapter!


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